


you and i and nobody else

by doingthemost, singsongsung



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Gen, Let Alexis Rose Eat, Queer Alexis Rose, Reality TV, Top Twyla Sands, Twyla Sands' Freckles, discussions of sex in the middle of chapter three, explicit sex at the beginning of chapter four and the end of chapters one and four, sex alluded to in the beginning of chapter two, the bachelor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 62,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27464698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doingthemost/pseuds/doingthemost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/singsongsung/pseuds/singsongsung
Summary: Twyla had never seen herself as someone who could catch the eye of someone like Mutt, let alone someone who would be interesting enough to watch on national television. But what was fate if not a series of lucky decisions and choices, aligning together to create something wonderful?-In truth, Alexis doesn’t know a ton about Mutt, aside from the fact that he’s hot - those abs - and that something about his reticence is charming. Her friend Jitney encouraged her to apply for the show, and fresh off her third break-up with Stavros, she figured, why not?-Twyla Sands and Alexis Rose meet on Mutt’s season ofThe Bachelor.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Mutt Schitt, Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Stevie Budd/David Rose, Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands (Previous), Twyla Sands/Mutt Schitt
Comments: 88
Kudos: 57





	1. Week One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking into our fic; we're happy that you're here! Please let us know what you think. :) 
> 
> The title of this fic is from "Touch" by Little Mix. Also, for the purposes of this fic, Mutt and Jocelyn are not related - his last name isn’t Schitt (don't let the tags confuse you!), and he’s not from Schitt’s Creek.

_**/r/TheBachelor: CAST PICTURES FOR MUTT'S 🐶 SEASON ARE OUT** _

_… HOW DID I MISS THE FACT THAT ALEXIS ROSE IS GOING TO BE ON THE BACHELOR? idk. have you guys SEEN her show? this girl does NOT want to find love. remember when the bachelor was all about the journey and love and the girls didnt have influencer careers?? miss those days ..._

_… okay but if you've really watched the show then u saw how she was treated by that stavros douche and she deserves so much more!!!! IDK if mutt will really be into her but she is so hot i feel like he'll at least keep her til fantasy suites…_

_… wow okay i went to HIGH SCHOOL with rachel and she is such a total sweetie!!! i can't believe i know someone who is going to be on the bachelor!! ..._

_… alexis does look really hot but is she mutt's type? she's so extra and out there and passionate about everything and i don't know if we really saw mutt like that ever. think about how chill heather is and how he said over and over that he was falling in love with her because she was so on his level. i think he loves quietly and alexis does NOT …_

_… what kind of name is tennessee like what were her parents thinking? …_

_… maybe it's a nickname like mutt? i mean, i hope mutt is a nickname …_

_… madison is so beautiful, reality steve says she's probably going to be F1/2 …_

_… anyone else SUSPICIOUS about the fact that we can find stuff for pretty much every girl except for twyla? who is this girl and does she really exist? her insta is so boring and doesn't even have one pic of her except for one from like 2016 …_

_… um yeah 100% a red flag and what kind of place is named schitt's creek anyway …_

  


* * *

  


"Babe," Twyla says, kissing the back of Alexis' neck once she's finished zipping up the seventh (and first) dress Alexis has tried on. She can smell her own shampoo in Alexis' hair. "I promise, this is the dress."

Alexis turns, appraising herself in Twyla's mirror via a series of calculated poses that Twyla mimics at her side, then playfully swats at Twyla's shoulder once she notices. "For the _last time_!" Alexis wraps her arms around Twyla's waist, her fingertips digging into the ticklish spot on the small of her back, and Twyla laughs as she wriggles in Alexis' hold. "Tyra _Banks_ taught me that, and my _girlfriend_ may think it's silly, but it _works_."

"Maybe a little," Twyla allows, once Alexis has let up and she can breathe again. They're both laughing now, Alexis' dress drama and their shared nervousness temporarily forgotten. They cling to each other, Twyla's arms winding around Alexis' neck as Alexis kisses her, and it's almost enough for Twyla to forget that this is their last moment alone, together, before their lives change forever. 

They separate reluctantly, orbiting each other in a practiced rhythm born of shared spaces and too-small bathrooms as they finish: Alexis puts her mascara on while Twyla assesses her hair, then they swap so Twyla can apply two strokes of eyeliner while Alexis puts on her lipstick with a practiced pout. Twyla spritzes two pumps of Alexis' perfume in the air and they meet in the middle of it, Alexis sighing in her ear as she steps back. 

"It's going to be okay," Twyla says, even though both of them know it's a promise she can't keep. It had been so easy for them both to apply for _The Bachelor_ on a whim; even without what had transpired between them, neither had fully considered the full extent of the possible aftermath and its public scrutiny. She takes Alexis' hands in each of her own. "You believe me, right?"

"I do." Alexis squeezes her hands, and Twyla echoes it with one of her own as she waits, watching Alexis find the words she needs. "I just… I mean, I've been dealing with internet trolls for what feels like forever? And it's never felt personal." Alexis smiles down at her, the one with an especially-crooked tilt of her mouth that has always threatened to make Twyla's heart skip a beat. "I don't care about the mistakes I've made, or what America will have to say about them? But it's gonna be… I mean, _everything_ is going to change for us." 

Twyla takes a deep breath; she's trying to maintain an even keel for the both of them, but she isn't immune to the anxiety she sees in Alexis' eyes. "I know, Lex. There's a lot on the line. But we have each other, and we both know who we are and what we have together. I think if we can remember that, we can make it through this."

Alexis nods, visibly steeling herself; Twyla can see her struggling to pull back on a smile. "Did Stevie change her mind about going to the watch party?"

"No," Twyla says, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, smiling as she watches Alexis relax a little more. "She'll be there tonight. But remember, it's going to be you and me at the end of all of this."

"You and me," Alexis echoes. She scans Twyla's outfit, her gaze fond. "You know, I _liked_ all those ball gowns on you, babe, but your ass looks even better in jeans."

"Thank you," Twyla says, stifling another laugh. "And stop stalling. We have to get to the watch party." 

Alexis huffs dramatically as Twyla pulls her out of her bedroom, then into the hallway for jackets and shoes. There's a sleek black town car waiting out front for them, looking hilariously out of place on the main street of Schitt's Creek. The Wobbly Elm's walking distance from her home, but the two of them gave up privacy when they'd both signed on the dotted line. 

"Ready?" Twyla leans up, still shorter than Alexis even in her boots, and gives Alexis one more bolstering kiss for good luck. She wiggles her eyebrows. "Remember, 'our journey's about to begin.'"

"I know my future wife's in _this_ room," Alexis says with feigned solemnity, her eyes sparkling as she reaches around Twyla to open the door. "Love you, Twy."

"I love you, Lex." Twyla reaches for Alexis' hand, then leads them both outside. "Come on, we're going to be late!"

  


* * *

  


The crowd in the Wobbly Elm cheers as they enter, holding hands, then parts as they make their way up toward their reserved, "VIP" seating right up front. Jocelyn's already there, her two Rolands right next to her, and she pulls them both into big hugs. 

"I can't believe it's tonight!" Jocelyn exclaims loudly into Twyla's ear, gripping her shoulders tightly as she withdraws. "I finally get to see how you two found true love!"

"It's really not that exciting," Twyla says with a smile, glancing briefly over at Alexis. She knows her girlfriend well enough to see the anxiety in how she's holding her shoulders, the smile that seems almost-permanent on her face even as Alexis meets her eyes. "Just your typical story of people falling in love."

"But it's all so sexy and dangerous!" Jocelyn says, her eyes gleaming with the fervor of someone who has invested several years' worth of time into living vicariously through people on her television. "True, _forbidden_ love!"

"Super thrilling," Stevie says dryly, sidling up to them. Twyla hadn't even noticed her arrival, but she's very much aware of how Alexis's hand tightens on hers as she turns to greet her ex with a brief hug. 

Alexis gives Stevie the tiniest little nod as the two of them size each other up. They've known each other for over a month now, ever since Alexis had shown up in Schitt's Creek with a camera crew and then had just never left, but all of Twyla's attempts to forge a friendship have, so far, been fruitless. 

"Hi, Stevie." 

Stevie cocks an eyebrow, looking back and forth between Twyla and Alexis. Then, with effort, she says: "Hi."

"Let's sit down!" Twyla interjects, pulling on Alexis' arm until she takes the hint. Jocelyn gives Twyla a knowing smile, passing them each a beer, and the projector flickers on before them. 

Mutt's promotional photo is on the screen – his tuxedo shirt's completely unbuttoned, and he's standing in the middle of a forest with one foot on a fallen log, a rose in his hand. He's smouldering at the camera, one of his eyebrows barely quirked in an invitation, and Alexis rolls her eyes as someone behind them calls out exactly what they'd like to do to him. 

"Sounds like someone doesn't have taste," Alexis says with mock-primness. Twyla looks over at her, smiling as their eyes meet, and Alexis adds, "The hottest person on this season's still coming up."

"You're right." Twyla takes a sip of her beer, then reaches for Alexis' hand and places it on her knee. "There's this girl, Alexis Rose… she's breathtaking."

Alexis leans over for a kiss, lingering on Twyla's lips even as the rest of the crowd notices. Twyla's faintly aware of Stevie, on her other side, setting her pint glass down with a little more force than is truly necessary, but she brings her other hand up to cup Alexis' face anyway. Alexis needs all the reassurance she can give right now, and Twyla's sure she could use some, too. 

"I love you," Alexis reminds her quietly, under the ambient noise of the bar. "No matter what they show… I want you to remember that."

"There's no way I could forget," Twyla promises, caressing her thumb over Alexis' cheek as the telltale music starts. "You love me, and I love you. And that's our truth."

"Girls!" Jocelyn half-shrieks, and Twyla turns just in time to see them alternate various snippets of contestants' intro packages: Shannon working with pets, Alexis lounging by a pool, herself walking wistfully through a meadow. "It's starting!"

"Here we go," Alexis says, her brightness tinged with just the tiniest hint of dread, and Twyla lifts her hand up to kiss Alexis' palm. Together, they intone along with Chris Harrison: " _And it all begins: right now._ "

  


* * *

  


David 🙃  
  
and theyre gonna make put my insta on PRIVATE, david!  
  
will you make sure no one forgets about me? 😔  
  
Alexis, you’re going on a reality television show watched by every fucking housewife in America.   
  
No one’s going to forget about you.  
  
And if you want people to like you, do NOT mention last year’s incident at the Prada store.  
  
Or that trip you went on with the Hadids.   
  
Or your “good deed” with that fucking rhino in Kenya.   
  
Actually maybe just try not to say anything about yourself and hope Mutt’s not smarter than an actual dog.   
  
UGH. love you too david!!! 😘  
  


  


* * *

  


It’s far from the first time Alexis has found herself standing outside after sunset in the midst of several other beautiful women, the air full of a palpable buzz of nervous energy. There were her teenage model days, assuming neutral, haughty expressions and staring down the camera; there was the time in Tahiti when it turned out Alexis’ invitation to board Leo’s yacht was _not_ exclusive; there was the casting call for her ‘entourage’ on her critically-reviewed reality television series _A Little Bit Alexis._

And, of course, she’s no stranger to the public eye. Paprazzos used to jump out of bushes to photograph her mother when the family was going to dinner. She learned to wear giant sunglasses when she was dating a Hemsworth brother. She has 1.8 million Instagram followers, thank you very much. 

Still, this feels different, like uncharted territory. In her white dress, the sheer overlay of fabric speckled with green and pink, delicately stitched leaves and applique roses, with her hair is curled into impeccable waves and her favourite lipstick on, Alexis feels confident - all in all, it’s a _very_ cute look for her, and one she wouldn’t hesitate to break out in past fights over boys who didn’t maintain her interest after she won their attention. But she’s never competed for someone like this, in an environment where there’s always a producer showing up, pushing her to talk about her feelings, _say more about that_ and _can you say it like this_. And in spite of her nearly two million followers, she’s never been exposed to quite so many pairs of eyes before on national television. _A Little Bit Alexis_ had more of a niche, exclusive audience. 

Whatever agitation she’s feeling, however, is clearly negligible compared with that of one of the women in the small group a producer herds her into. She’s a super cute redhead with her hair in an elegant ponytail who looks like she’s about to shake right out of the heels she doesn’t appear to be totally comfortable in. 

Alexis brushes her own hair out of her face and says, “Babe. Have you considered trying some, like, yoga breathing?” 

All five of the other women turn toward her, looking sort of startled. Alexis smiles at them, holding out a hand, palm down. “Alexis Rose.” 

There’s another beat, and then a woman with dark hair and an _excellent_ eyebrow game takes Alexis’ hand in her own. She gives Alexis’ hand a mix of a shake and a squeeze before dropping it quickly. “Yeah, I - I know who you are. Shannon.” 

“Great to meet you, girl,” Alexis says. She looks back at the trembling redhead expectantly. 

“Rachel,” she says through a clenched jaw. It’s possible her teeth are chattering. 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Alexis says. _Poor thing_ , she thinks, and drapes an arm gently around Rachel’s shoulders. “I mean, at the end of the day, he’s just a _boy_ , right?” 

“That’s right,” another woman says, moving closer so the three of them are huddled in a little triangle. She’s shorter than Alexis, with a small frame not unlike Rachel’s. Her hair is even kind of similar, though it’s more auburn than red. The freckles on her cheeks are visible even under the soft pink of her blush. Alexis frowns faintly, wondering if they were cast based on Mutt’s typical type. 

The woman with the freckles takes one of Rachel’s hands in both of hers, giving Rachel an encouraging look. “If it’s meant to be, then it’ll be. And if it’s not, that’s okay, too.” 

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Rachel says. “I’ll probably get sent home tonight.” 

“No way!” Alexis says. “You’re a total hottie.”

Rachel gives her a wry look that seems to say _thanks for trying_. “Everyone here is _so_ beautiful,” she says, looking out at all the other groups of women before her eyes land on Alexis again. “I mean… look at your face. And body.” Before Alexis can do anything more than give her hair a flip, Rachel sighs and steps away. “I’m going to see if there’s somewhere I can get a bottle of water.” 

“That was nice, what you said,” the other woman says as Rachel walks off. “I think you were right. I’m really… looking forward to meeting Mutt, but he’s just one boy.” She smiles, and it lights up her face in a way Alexis was not entirely prepared for. “I don’t believe we all have just one soulmate.” 

“Mmhm, totally,” Alexis agrees. “That is, like, word for word what I said to Zac Efron.” 

“I’m Twyla,” the woman says, through her shiny smile. 

“Alexis.” She looks Twyla over, noting bright green eyes under smoked-out eyeshadow, shoulders dusted with freckles just like her face, and a dress with a sheer overskirt and floral detailing that’s not totally dissimilar from Alexis’ own gown. 

Twyla follows her gaze. “I guess we kind of had the same idea,” she says. “The, um, producers… didn’t really like my first pick.” 

“Well, this one is _working_ for you, girl,” Alexis says, because it is. She can see how the dress might not quite be in the typical style realm of someone with such an open face and earnest eyes, but the contrast, and unexpectedness of it - it’s doing good things for Twyla. 

“Okay, ladies, let’s go!” a producer - Alexis thinks her name is Chloe, or possibly Zoe - says, clipboard tucked under one of her arms. “Here’s your limo.” Her face freezes. “Where’s - ” The breath she lets out when she spots Rachel, returning with a death-grip on a tiny bottle of water, is full of relief. “Okay. Okay, great.” She plasters on a smile. “Have so much fun!” 

Alexis moves toward the waiting limo, then pauses when she realizes Twyla’s still a few paces back. She’s got a small picnic basket in her hands, and she’s fussing with the plaid cloth peeking out of its edges. “Twyla?” Alexis asks, prompting. 

When Twyla looks up, her eyes are wider in her face than they were a moment before. “Oh!” she says, and hurries over, taking small, quick steps in her heels. “I thought we’d be waiting a little bit longer.”

“Did you… bring a snack?” Alexis asks. 

Twyla smiles a little scrunched-up smile, like she’s holding back laughter. “No. Um… I made cookies for Mutt. I like to bake, and I thought… I could bring him a little taste of home. I ordered jam from Salt Spring Island.” 

“Oh,” Alexis says. It hadn’t even occurred to her to bring anything other than herself. “Love that for you. And for Mutt,” she adds belatedly. “You’re, like… into him, huh?” 

Twyla seems kind of baffled by the question. “Aren’t we all?” she asks, before a PA takes her by the elbow and steers her into the limo. 

“Totally,” Alexis says, to no one. “ _Totally_.”

  


* * *

  


In truth, she doesn’t know a _ton_ about Mutt, aside from the fact that he’s hot - those _abs_ \- and that something about his reticence is charming. Her friend Jitney encouraged her to apply for the show, and fresh off her third break-up with Stavros, she figured, why not? She watched the last couple episodes of Heather’s season of _The Bachelorette_ after she was cast, to learn a little bit about Mutt. Right away she knew that if she saw him across the room at a party, she’d want him, and as far as Alexis was concerned, that was enough. Even if it doesn’t work between them, Jitney said going on the show would increase her social capital, get her better brand deals and sponsored trips. 

As the limo idles, one of the women whose name Alexis hasn’t caught yet - like Twyla, she’s brought a prop to assist in her entrance, a cute little plant in a rustic-looking pot - asks, “So, what do we all like about Mutt?” 

Her smile is warm (everyone here, Alexis thinks yet again, is so beautiful), and she’s leaning forward with a let’s-have-girl-talk sort of smile. 

Rachel swallows audibly before she says, “He just seems so… real. My mom really loves _The Bachelor_ and we’ve been watching together for years, but I’ve never seen a guy like Mutt on the show.” 

“ _Totally_ ,” Alexis says, just because she feels like Rachel could use the encouragement. 

“What about you?” Rachel asks. 

Twirling a curl around one of her fingers, Alexis gives the same answer she gave the producers: “I can be kind of, like…” Her hands flutter through the air. “Flighty? Sometimes. So I think I could use - _in a husband_ ,” she adds, because the producers really like when she says that, “I think I could use someone more grounded. Like Mutt.” 

“I like that he’s kind of unconventional,” Twyla pipes up. “He walks to the beat of his own drum, you know? Sometimes I feel like I get so stuck in my routine, my day-to-day. Who people expect me to be. I don’t think that would happen with a partner like Mutt.” 

They all nod seriously, and then Shannon cracks a grin and says, “Um, his _body_?” and they all start to giggle. 

“But honestly,” the woman with the plant says, “I thought Ted was a great catch, too.” 

“He seemed like such a sweetheart,” Twyla agrees sincerely. “I really think he and Heather are going to make it.” She looks out one of the windows; the limo still hasn’t moved. “Does anyone want a cookie?” she offers, opening her little basket. 

Most of them shake their heads, but Rachel says yes. Twyla hands her a thumbprint cookie in the shape of a heart. 

“ _So_ cute,” the woman with the plant says, sounding a little defeated. “And a great idea. The way to a man’s heart and all.” 

“Maybe,” Twyla says modestly. “But a sweetheart plant is such a good idea, too!” 

“Thanks,” plant-woman tells her, and then Shannon gasps. 

“We’re moving,” she says. She looks at all of them, her perfect eyebrows raised. “This is it.”

  


* * *

  


The first one beckoned out of their limo is Shannon. As she walks toward Mutt, the rest of them lean eagerly toward the windows, craning their necks for a view of their meeting. Alexis ends up sort of crowded in behind Twyla, since she’s tall enough to see pretty well over Twyla’s head. 

It looks like Shannon says something that makes Mutt laugh as they grasp hands in the air between their bodies. They exchange a few more words, then hug, quickly but solidly, before Shannon heads toward the mansion with a brief, coy backward glance. 

Twyla is next. Alexis whisper-cheers, “Good luck!” as she leaves the limo, and then practically presses her nose against the window to watch Twyla introduce herself to Mutt.

There’s some nervousness in Twyla’s posture as she lifts up her picnic basket to show it to Mutt. The tilt of her head is adorable, and Alexis thinks that Mutt’s smiling. Twyla opens the basket, hesitates, and then takes a heart-shaped cookie out and holds it up to Mutt’s lips. In the limo, all three of them gasp. 

Mutt bites into the cookie; Twyla says something that makes Mutt smile so wide it’s easily visible to Alexis, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he finishes chewing. He says something back, looking right into Twyla’s face, and then Twyla tentatively brushes at his beard, probably clearing out crumbs. Mutt kisses the back of her hand, prompting another round of gasps in the limo, and then Twyla and her basket make their way toward the mansion without looking back. 

“He likes her,” Rachel whispers, and then it’s Alexis’ turn to step out of the limo. 

She walks toward Mutt with the long, confident strides she mastered during her flirtation with runway modelling, and calls, “Hi,” to him when she’s a couple feet away, whipping out her sunny-yet-seductive smile and lowering her lashes for a beat for good measure so that he gets a chance to see how it looks when she peeks at him from beneath them. 

“Hi,” he echoes, offering her a hand to help her navigate over the cobblestones. 

She wraps her other arm around his shoulders in a hug, letting their joined hands fall to their sides and making sure his knuckles make contact with her leg. She pulls back slowly, smoothing his shirt collar. He’s not wearing a tie, and has left the first couple buttons on his shirt undone; it’s a look she loves for him. 

“I’m Alexis,” she says lowly. 

“It’s… good to meet you,” Mutt says. He’s looking at her mouth, which is exactly what she wanted. 

“Mm, likewise,” Alexis says with the tiniest shimmy. “You look _really_ good tonight.” 

“So do you,” Mutt says, his eyes moving down her body appreciatively before his eyes drift back up her face. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” she gushes, like he’s just given her the world’s best compliment. They’re still holding hands, and she rubs her thumb lightly over his knuckles, her touch soft enough that it should make him want more. With her other hand, she touches one of the flowers on her dress. “My last name is Rose. So this seems like exactly the place for me, doesn’t it?” 

“I guess it does,” Mutt says, some wryness in his smile now. 

“Your skin’s _way_ softer than I would’ve expected,” she tells him, thumb running over his knuckles once more. 

“Thanks,” he laughs, looking down at her hands. “I make sure to moisturize.” 

“That’s _so_ important,” Alexis says. Out of the frame, Chloe or Zoe is making wrap-it-up hand signals, so she leans in and presses a lingering kiss to Mutt’s stubbled cheek. “See you inside,” she murmurs.

“See you there,” he agrees. 

She hangs onto his hand as she takes her first couple steps on the path toward the mansion, skimming her fingers along his palm before she lets go. She doesn’t look back - that’s never been her MO - but just walks like he might be watching her as she makes her way toward the lit-up windows of the mansion and its waiting entrance. 

There was _definitely_ a spark, and that’s all Alexis has ever needed to work with.

  


* * *

  


It’s very bright inside the mansion - well-lit, Alexis assumes, for the cameras - and the energy seems to be bumped up to an even higher level, all the women exhilarated by their very first meetings with the man they’re all now dating. Alexis thinks she hears a gasp as she walks into one of the rooms the other woman have congregated in, followed by a thread of whispers she’s accustomed to: _is that - oh my god, is that - that’s Alexis Rose!_

“Oh my god,” a woman says, approaching her. “Wow. I follow you on Instagram.” 

Alexis pulls up her most benevolent smile. “So sweet!” she says, sincerely. “I’d totally follow you back, but, you know. They took our phones.” 

“Really?” the woman asks. She looks sort of awed, which is adorable. “Your life just seems - ” She shakes her head. “Wow. I mean, _incredible_. And you’re so beautiful.” 

Alexis ducks her head briefly, brushing one of her curls back behind her ear; it’s her classic aw-shucks gesture. “I just… love to have fun!” she says breezily. “What’s your name, babe?”

“Laila.” She nods toward a couple other women. “And that’s Hannah, and Ashlynn.” 

“I follow you on Insta, too,” Ashlynn says. “Your trip to Belize looked so magical. It’s on my bucket list now.” 

Alexis nods. “Totally worth the malaria pills.”

“I watched your show,” Hannah blurts suddenly. “And I have your album. Like, I _still_ have it, somewhere at my parents’ place.”

Before Alexis can say something in response, another woman says, “Sorry,” drawing the word out in a tone that implies she’s not sorry at all. She steps into their little group and Hannah takes a half-step back. “It’s just that I, like - ” She breathes out a laugh that Alexis understands is supposed to be elegant and tinkling, even if it doesn’t quite meet those descriptors. “I have _absolutely no idea_ who you are?” 

Sizing the new arrival up, Alexis realizes they look somewhat alike - the woman who’s joined them is tall, blonde, rocking just the right amount of highlighter on her cheekbones, her arms toned by pilates. She offers up the smile that scrunches the edges of her eyes a little; it’s not a fake smile, exactly, but it _is_ the smile she always throws at David before she sticks her middle finger up at him, and she suspects the woman who’s attempting to go toe-to-toe with her will be able to figure that out. 

“I don’t know who you are, either,” she says smoothly. “So that works out well.” She extends her hand, palm down. “Really great to meet you. Alexis Rose.”

Frowning slightly at Alexis’ hand, the woman opts to give her fingers a perfunctory squeeze. “Madison James. Do you have, like, a couple followers on Instagram?” she asks, simpering. 

Alexis flicks her wrist. “A couple million!” she says cheerfully, smiling even more widely. “And a brand deal with Triangl. But no biggie, right? We’re here for love, and love is, like, the _most_ important thing.” 

Her eyes drift across the room as she speaks, and land on Twyla, from her limo. Twyla’s no longer holding her little basket of cookies, and has her hands clasped tightly together as she talks to another woman. She needs a drink, Alexis decides. 

“ _So_ happy to have met you all!” she says to Madison, Hannah, Ashlynn, and Laila, throwing Hannah a quick wink and squeezing Laila’s shoulder. She doesn’t spare a glance in Madison’s direction as she adds, “I’m thirsty,” before flouncing off toward a waiter circulating with a tray of champagne glasses.

  


* * *

  


_**/r/TheBachelor: East Coast Bachelor Live Reaction Thread – Mutt 🐶** _

_... OMG this season is so good …_

_… really? it's kinda boring to me idk. mutt never talks …_

_… +1 for mutt being boring (but hot af) but his girls are so beautiful …_

_… who do you guys think is going to get the FIR?? …_

_… anyone getting strong BDE energy from madison? …_

_… NO that was more like low key c*nt vibes …_

_… alexis is so NOT into mutt omg, he's gonna see right thru her!! …_

_… help my boyfriend wants to leave me for twyla, he's upset we don't have any cookies in the house_

  


* * *

  


"Twyla! I brought you this!" Alexis hands her a glass of champagne, clinking their glasses together before they drink. The mansion is buzzing; women mill around each other, chirping excitedly, while Mutt stands head and shoulders above the crowd. Twyla sees bright flashes of women's gowns in her peripheral vision, and laughter from another room rings in her ears. 

"Thanks, Alexis." Twyla takes another sip, staving off her sensory overload, and punctuates it with a brief, anxious smile. Meeting the other women in her limo and driving over together in a small group had been solidly within her wheelhouse. The frenzy within the mansion is something else altogether. 

Twyla has never been in a place like this before – it's certainly a far cry from home in Schitt's Creek – but she knows Mutt will be worth her stepping out of her comfort zone. She's seen countless seasons of _The Bachelor_ and its spin-offs, and Mutt had caught her eye right from the start. He was attractive on television, yes, but she had grown to root for him on Heather's season for so many other reasons. His kindness, quiet sincerity, and down-to-earth nature had been refreshing on a season with an unnecessary amount of drama. 

When he had been announced as the next Bachelor, Twyla had saved the link that Jocelyn forwarded her, then clicked the button on a whim one night. It had seemed like a crazy pipe dream, one that would never come true, but Jocelyn had been thrilled to record some footage of her. What's more, the producers had somehow picked her out of thousands of women across the continent. 

Twyla had never seen herself as someone who could catch the eye of someone like Mutt, let alone someone who would be interesting enough to watch on national television. But what was fate if not a series of lucky decisions and choices, aligning together to create something wonderful? Is life worth living if she doesn't take chances? She didn't think so. 

Now that Twyla's here, though, she can't help but do a tiny bit of second-guessing. “This is kind of…" Her eyes roam the room again, watching as one of the women – Madison, maybe? – takes Mutt by the hand and leads him outside. "I mean, I've seen this on television before, but it's something else, being right in it." 

Alexis half-turns, glancing over her shoulder, and they're quiet for a moment as they take in the rest of the room. Women have already started to gather into little groups, forming miniature cliques and alliances. Everyone is impossibly beautiful. Twyla's wearing the prettiest gown she and the producers could muster up, but she's certain she could fade into the shadows and no one would ever notice. 

"It _is_ a little intense." Alexis turns back to her, cocking an eyebrow conspiratorially. "Like you said, he's just a guy, right? A really _sexy_ , tall, attractive… forest person –"

"Forester," Twyla supplies on a laugh. 

"Forest person," Alexis repeats, a crooked little smile settling on her face at her intentional mistake. "So I don't really get what all the fuss is about? Like, yeah, he's hot, but he'll get around to all of us."

"He actually won't," Twyla says. She wonders if Alexis has never watched this show before. "They usually just talk to like, two-thirds of the group, I think? Hence everyone being… the way they are." 

Mutt walks back into the room, arm-in-arm with Madison, and five other women immediately swarm him. Alexis makes a little noncommittal sound, the both of them studying the room like they're observers at the zoo, then does a little hair-flip, wiggling her shoulders as she brings her attention back to Twyla. 

"I'm not worried," Alexis says. Twyla can understand why; Alexis is stunning, almost formidable in that dress and those heels. She'd been beautiful outside, lit by the nighttime sky, but she's even more radiant now; Twyla can't look away from her. She can see many of the others watching them – watching _Alexis_ – and for a fleeting moment, she feels almost proud to have earned her attention. 

Alexis, oblivious, carries on: "I've been in like, many life-or-death situations where I had to save myself with my appearance and sexuality?" She winks, poorly. "So this is nothing."

"I guess you have this in the bag," Twyla says. 

"I mean, I do?" Alexis' eyes scan her face; Twyla suddenly feels like she's staring into the sun as all of Alexis' attention sweeps over her. "But, Twy – I'm gonna call you, Twy, okay? – you look so fucking hot in that dress, and you're so tiny and cute, Mutt's gonna want to eat you right up!" She swirls her finger in the air, then bounces it off of Twyla's nose. "Trust me, okay? I know these things."

Twyla stammers, then tries to pass it off with a laugh. Yes, she wants Mutt to like her, for him to see the possibility of an amazing life together like she does, but – 

She chances one more glance as Alexis shifts, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. Twyla wonders what lipstick she's wearing, how she got her eyeliner so precise, why everything about her is so magnetic. She had known to expect complications of the heart when she had applied, but this?

God, Twyla is so fucked.

  


* * *

  


Twyla does a slow, meandering lap of the mansion, circulating with some of the other women – the other _competitors_ , her mind reminds her – and beginning the process of putting names to faces. There are a few girls who she gets along with right away, some she'd prefer to never speak to again, and then there are the girls she rode over with: Shannon, Rachel, Mita, Nicole, and Alexis. Their shared familiarity causes them to circle up when they aren't with the others or angling for Mutt's time, and Twyla clinks her second glass of champagne against theirs after Alexis finagles another round for them all. 

Mutt's been in the corner of her eye the whole night, popping in and out of the main hall to request private moments with the women. Alexis goes off with him soon enough, then returns a couple of minutes later with some new, exciting discoveries, her hands fluttering in the air as she recalls how they both love Granville Island and packing light, how they'd be ' _such_ good, sexy travel buddies,' and how she's sure she could take his wanderlust and turn it into real lust on the way to Bora Bora. 

Twyla nods supportively, bemused and perplexed; if that's what Mutt really wants in a wife, what will he ever see in her? And then it's Shannon's turn, then Rachel's. Time ticks on as the evening approaches, then passes midnight, and Twyla's hands begin to fidget a little more as she waits, making idle conversation with whoever's around. 

Then Mutt's suddenly in front of her, holding out his hand. "Mind if I 'steal you away'?" he asks; the corners of his mouth twitch with the phrasing. 

Twyla laughs; she doesn't mean to, but she's been waiting for so long, she'd half-convinced herself she was going home that evening. "Not at all."

She rises, taking his hand in hers; she feels tiny and delicate next to him, steadied by his quiet presence as he leads her towards a fireplace outside. There's a bit of a chill in the air, and he takes his suit jacket off and places it around her shoulders. It smells like him, sandalwood and cinnamon. Twyla brings her hands up to steady the jacket, allowing herself a moment to imagine that it's his arms around her. 

"Hi," he says, once they've taken a seat. Twyla's fairly certain that she can get used to the way his smile transforms his face. "You've been hiding from me." 

"I haven't," Twyla says, a blush colouring her cheeks. Is that how he sees her? "There's just… you know, there's so many women here vying for your attention, I didn't want to get caught up in that." 

"Better now," he agrees. "It's died down a bit, so we can really talk."

Twyla turns to face him, their legs brushing together. Mutt places his hand on her knee, his thumb rubbing little patterns on her thigh through her dress as all of his intensity focuses on her. She tilts her head up, looking into his blue eyes, and the complexities of her attraction to Alexis are suddenly the last thing she can think of. 

"I saw you hula hooping with one of the women earlier," she says, her heart warming more to him as he laughs, eyebrows raised, shaking his head. "I didn't have anything crazy like that planned for the cocktail party. I was just hoping to get to know you better."

"I'd like that, too." Mutt is a man of few words, choosing each one very carefully, and Twyla holds on to all of them like little gifts he bestows upon her. "But I think you already do.You're the only one who actually knows where I'm from." 

"Really?" His hometown is public knowledge, and he'd brought Heather home there before his failed proposal. He leans in a little, moving his other arm around her waist. She isn't sure if it's the fireplace or the warmth of his arms around her, but she suddenly feels like she could burn up and be all the more happier for it. "I thought it would be…" she smiles self-consciously, aware that his presence is causing her to fumble a bit. "I wanted to do something special just for _you_." 

"It really stood out to me," he assures her. They're quiet for a moment, looking at each other, before he adds: "Tell me about yourself?"

Twyla can't help but duck her head a little, going over her words in her mind. Her background had been a slight point of contention with her producer, who had told her that sometimes she has a tendency to say the wrong thing or make people uncomfortable. But her life is what it is, and she doesn't know any way to talk about it other than the truth of what she's lived. From the way Mutt's watching her patiently, she hopes he'll see things the same way.

"I'm from a tiny little town in Ontario," she begins. "It's called Schitt's Creek, and I waitress at a café there. It's the only real restaurant in the town, so I've been going there all my life. It's where I used to go when my parents were fighting, or when my dad was arrested and my mom didn't know who she was. I know everyone in the town, so I knew even when I was little that I could go there and someone would be there to look after me." 

Mutt nods, eyes still on hers; he hadn't flinched once, and a little blossom of hope opens in her chest. "The café feels like home, more so than where I actually lived and slept, you know? I'd do my schoolwork there, I went on my first date there… it's where we would end up after birthdays and funerals and everything in between. Life happened in that café, and I love giving back to the town that raised me by working there." 

"I get the small town thing," he says intently. Somehow, during her little story, his hand had moved up to settle mid-thigh, and one of her hands had come up to rest on his shoulder. If she wanted to, which she does, she could trace the outline of his collarbone with her thumb. "I don't live at home anymore, but it's got a certain kind of…" He shrugs one shoulder, and Twyla thinks she understands completely what he means. "Not everyone gets it. I like that you do."

"I do," she murmurs, almost in a whisper, and Mutt closes the distance between them with a kiss. She winds her hand up into the hair at the nape of his neck, her eyes falling closed as she leans into him and his arms tighten around her waist. It's a really great first kiss, soft yet insistent, and she can't help but giggle as he pulls away, both of them catching their breath.

"I'll be right back," he promises, and suddenly Mutt's gone, retreating away from her in confident, assured strides. His jacket is still around her shoulders, a little off-center after their kiss. Twyla looks up nervously, aware once more of the cameras around them, of the women who had been watching from afar. Then he's back, a long-stemmed rose in his hand, and her eyes go wide.

"Twyla," he says, holding a hand out so that she can stand, too. He smiles reassuringly, his free hand lowering to rest on the small of her back. "I think we really get each other, and I want to keep learning more about you. Will you accept this first impression rose?"

She holds her hand out for the rose, marveling at the fact that Mutt has chosen _her_ for this honour, and smiles up at him. This is why she's here, why she'd traveled across the border and all the way west to Los Angeles, and this is what she wants: Mutt, not one of her fellow contestants who happens to be very, _very_ pretty.

"Of course," she says, and he kisses her again.

  


* * *

  


"Ohmygod," Alexis says, making a beeline for Twyla as she steps back into the mansion, Mutt's jacket still around her shoulders and his rose in her hand. Alexis pulls her into an empty corner, but it doesn't happen quickly enough for Twyla to miss the fact that everyone's looking at her.

"Yeah," Twyla agrees, shaking her head in disbelief. Now that Mutt's gone, talking to Chris Harrison about the upcoming rose ceremony, she's pretty sure she's in a state of shock. She holds up the rose, marveling at its existence and her ownership of it. "Wow. I – I didn't even think he'd actually talk to me tonight."

"Didn't I tell you?" Alexis' eyes are sparkling with excitement; Twyla's good at reading people, but she isn't fully sure if Alexis' demeanor is as good as it gets. For a moment it feels like they're just friends, not two women vying for the same man's heart, but she wonders if this is where lines begin to be drawn. "I knew Mutt was _so_ into you!" 

Twyla twists the rose in her hand, noting how her loaned jewelry and intricate manicure catch the light as she runs her thumb along the stem. She's never been so made up before, and she still doesn't recognize her own reflection when she catches sight of it. She can't help the envy she feels at how casually Alexis carries her own finery.

"I guess so," she says; she intends for it to be a light, joking sort of comment, but she can hear the insecurity in her voice. 

"Babe," Alexis interjects, before Twyla has a chance to say anything else. "What do you mean, 'you guess so'? Didn't I tell you earlier how fucking hot you look tonight?" 

"I – yes, but –"

Alexis moves closer, grasping Twyla's wrist. Somehow, despite the friendly, conspiratorial smile she's wearing, the look in her eyes is almost ferocious in its force. "And do you trust me?" 

"I barely know you," Twyla says before she can stop herself. It's practically two in the morning, and they're all tipsy and exhausted. She likes Alexis from what she's seen of her so far, and she wants them to be friends, but her sudden intensity is catching Twyla off guard. "And we're competing for the same guy. _Should_ I trust you?"

"Yes!" Alexis' hold tightens, and suddenly she's so close, Twyla has to look up to hold her gaze. She had been so certain that she'd wiped Alexis from her mind with Mutt's kisses, but now, as Twyla finds herself debating whether her eyes are blue or green, she's not as sure. 

Oblivious, Alexis continues on: "Of _course_ you should trust me! I like you, Twy. You're cute and spunky and _super_ adorable. You literally had him eating out of the palm of your hand. And who could blame him? If I were the bachelor, I know I'd definitely see how you could be my future wife. So can you just, like, do me a favor and believe in how hot you are and how you totally deserve that first impression rose?"

Twyla's too stunned to do anything else but nod, charmed into obedience by Alexis' little tirade. Alexis just wants her to believe in herself, and is that really so bad? "I like you too," she admits, wanting to smooth things over between them. "If I were the bachelor, I would've given you the rose."

"Aww!" Alexis beams, putting one hand to her heart. "Babe, that's so sweet. I'm glad we'd choose each other. Seriously, if it wasn't going to be me, I'm so glad it's you. So: friends who believe in each other's hotness and total worthiness of being here?"

Twyla smiles, shaking Alexis' proffered hand. "Sounds good to me."

  


* * *

  


The sun is rising by the time the rose ceremony has finished and eight women have left the mansion, but Twyla's too exhausted to close the blinds and block out the light that streams into the bedroom she and the others have claimed. 

She's pretty sure that her feet are about to fall off; she's never stood for so many continuous hours, so _still_ , all in one place. Mutt had forgotten many of the women's names – not that she can blame him – and they'd needed to reshoot several of the takes. Twyla knows how it all works, but that hadn't stopped her from wishing her first impression rose had excused her from the marathon ceremony.

Rachel collapses onto one of the bunks, wincing as she gently investigates a blister, but Twyla's hesitant to take a bed for herself without prior discussion. She settles for letting herself out of her heels, an audible sigh of relief escaping her as she stands on her own two feet, and looks over at Alexis as she rummages among her things. 

"Anyone else _hate_ the suitcase limit?" Alexis asks, pulling out a pink nightie. "Twy, help me with my dress?"

"Oh, sure." Twyla knows this is just what girls are like when they're together, especially in this kind of temporary living situation, so she tries to not think too much of it as Alexis sweeps her hair over her right shoulder, moving smoothly back towards her. There's a tiny little hook at the top, simple enough to undo. The rest should be easy enough, but Twyla's heart is hammering in her chest as she slides the zipper down. She's careful to not graze Alexis' skin with her fingers, but her eyes follow the trail of the zipper as it reveals the expanse of Alexis' back and, right where it ends, the barest hint of lacy underwear. 

Alexis glances over her shoulder at Twyla, her lips parted as their eyes meet, and Twyla pulls away from her with a sharp intake of breath as Alexis smiles, unaware. "Thanks, babe!" 

"Any time," Twyla manages through a shaky smile.

Alexis' dress, undone and so similar to her own, is nearly threatening to slide down her shoulders, but she's too busy gesturing for Twyla to turn so she can return the favor. Alexis' fingertips slide over the clasp of her bra as she works the zipper down, and when they turn back to face each other, Twyla's sure her face must be on fire.

"You've got great boobs." Alexis' gaze flicks down and up Twyla's body in a casual once-over. "I'd totally kill for them."

"Thanks." Twyla's nearly forgotten that the rest of their roommates are there. She clears her throat, aware that she's supposed to answer with a compliment of her own, then adds, "You have a great… everything."

"Twy!" Alexis is nearly preening now, her nose scrunched up in what appears to be some kind of genuine, unadulterated joy. "You're so sweet. I'm so glad we met."

Shannon pushes past them, now clad in her pajamas and her face now bare of makeup, and Twyla takes advantage of the distraction to shift her focus away from Alexis' great everything. 

"What bunk do you want?" Twyla asks. She reaches for a camisole, slipping it on once she steps out of her dress, then turns away to reach for her shorts as Alexis starts to undress. 

"That top one." Twyla can see Alexis slip into her nightie out of the corner of her eye, but she looks instead at where she's pointing. 

"That works for me." Twyla cards her fingers through her hair, wincing a little at all the hair spray she can feel. "Malevolent spirits tend to cluster at the top of rooms, so." 

Rachel makes a startled noise at the top of her own bunk. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah." Twyla nods. "Everyone knows it."

Alexis makes a long, non-committal sound, drawing it out and ending on an inflection that sounds vaguely like a question. "You know, I totally just remembered that I tend to roll out of bed. Like, a lot. So maybe I should take the bottom one."

Twyla shrugs, bending down to gather her face wash and toothbrush. "Yeah, sure. I can be on top."

  


* * *

  


**Messages with** itsalbanyedwards  
  
**INCOMING:** lex!!! babe!!! u looked so good on the bachelor tonight! 😅 u totally win right? u always get the guy!! let me know if you need any help wedding planning! 💞💞

**Messages with** kaci.cartwright  
  
**INCOMING:** lol ur such a slut

**Messages with** racheloconnor22  
  
**INCOMING:** Isn’t it crazy watching all of this back? 🙈 Hope you and Twyla are having the best night, I miss you both! ❤️

**Messages with** klair  
  
**INCOMING:** ur gay now? lol lexie u do ANYTHING for attention babes

  


* * *

  


The final scene of the season premiere involves Mutt talking directly to the camera about the women he’s just met and the roses he’s given out. Alexis can tell, from the wry quality of his smile and the way he’s shoved his hands into his pockets, that he’s reciting words the producers want. She smiles a little herself, feeling sympathetic, and makes an attempt to get even closer to Twyla. They’re sitting on separate chairs, but their arms are pressed together, and one of Twyla’s legs is hooked up over one of Alexis’. Atop Twyla’s thigh, their hands are clasped - for the past two hours, Twyla’s been playing idly with Alexis’ rings, stroking her fingers softly over Alexis’ palm. 

“ _This season_ ,” Chris Harrison’s voice says, filling the bar and capturing everyone’s attention, “ _on the most surprising and dramatic season of_ The Bachelor…” 

Preview shots flash over the large screen, borrowed from the high school, that the show is being projected onto. Mutt is laughing with various women, kissing various women, twirling Tennessee under his arm to the sound of a crooning, romantic song. There’s Shannon, unstoppable smile on her face, saying, “You know, I didn’t really know if I believed in this process. But… yeah. Now, I do.” There’s _Alexis_ , also smiling, lashes batting at the camera as she says, “His lips are so soft. It was an incredible first kiss.” 

Twyla bumps their shoulders together. When Alexis looks over at her, she finds her girlfriend giving her a playful, eyebrows-raised _look_ , and she scrunches up her nose in response before leaning over to kiss Twyla’s cheek. 

“ _This season is unlike any other in_ Bachelor _history_ ,” Chris Harrison declares. 

There’s a clip of Alexis again, a clip of Twyla, both of them smiling small, private smiles, before the promo cuts away to footage of Alexis painting Twyla’s toenails, Twyla’s foot in her lap. Alexis’ grip on Twyla’s hand tightens, probably tight enough to hurt, but Twyla squeezes right back. 

On the screen, in front of a tropical wallpaper, Twyla looks at a producer just past the camera. “Alexis?” she says. She looks down at the ground, lips pressed together. When she looks back up, a helpless smile is stretching across her face. “She’s so beautiful,” Twyla says, soft and earnest, something like wonder flickering over her face. “ _All_ of her.” 

Somewhere behind them, someone in the bar whoops at that. “Shut up, Chuck,” Twyla calls lazily, rolling her eyes before pressing a quick kiss to Alexis’ shoulder. Alexis turns her head, returning the gesture by kissing Twyla’s forehead. When she returns her attention to the screen, she sees a close-up shot of her thumb stroking Twyla’s cheek, before a shot of both of them entering a room - a room in the _mansion_ , and not even a bedroom, as far as Alexis can tell - is followed by an image of a closed door and audio of what can only be described as a heavy makeout session. 

Alexis feels her jaw tightening a little, but she doesn’t have time to react, because the dramatic music has turned somewhat ominous, and Chris is intoning, “ _But does the course of true love ever run smooth?_ ” before the promo flashes rapidly through several moments: obvious disquiet in Mutt’s voice as he tells someone, “I can’t promise you that;” Shannon in tears, walking away from the cameras she says, “How am I supposed to feel about that?”; Twyla in tears, too, but trying to hide it, swiping at her cheeks as fast as she can; Alexis’ own face, her eyes puffy as she says, her voice worn out, “I think I might’ve just made the worst mistake of my life;” Tennessee's hands pressed over her mouth as she shakes her head; and, finally, Madison pointing a finger right at the camera and declaring, in no uncertain terms, “Alexis Rose is a _fake bitch._ ” 

The promo switches tone once again, flashing through shots of various cities and romantic date spots, intercut with bottles of champagne popping, and Chris Harrison sounds particularly satisfied with himself as he says, “ _What you are about to witness… will be not just one, but_ two _love stories unfolding on your screen. This season on_ The Bachelor _, destiny brings four hearts together. And the journey begins… tonight._ ” 

The credits play, and Alexis leans back in her chair, letting out a breath she’d apparently been holding. A few people applaud, and chatter starts to fill the bar again. Someone flicks a row of lights on, and Alexis blinks, her eyes adjusting. Twyla leans in even closer, sweeping her hair over her shoulder so the curtain of it hides both their faces a bit. 

“Hey,” she says, her thumb running slowly over Alexis’ knuckles. She smiles, one brow quirking as she says, “Your heart still here with me?” 

Alexis smiles back, nodding. “Assuming it’s not fake, right?” she says. She means for it to be a joke, but it doesn’t come out sounding like one. 

Twyla’s expression melts into such sweet concern that Alexis isn’t sure she can bear it. “Babe,” Twyla says. “You know that - ”

“Yeah,” Alexis cuts in quickly. She doesn’t want to ruin the night. “Yeah, I know.” 

Stevie appears at their table, holding a pitcher of beer and two glasses, all of which she lifts slightly in a wordless question. 

Twyla throws Stevie a smile before focusing on Alexis’ face again, and giving her hand a squeeze. “We can just go home,” she offers. 

“No,” Alexis says quickly, because she really doesn’t want to ruin the night, and because she likes how, ever since she set foot in Schitt’s Creek, Twyla’s been referring to her house as ‘home,’ as if that’s how Alexis should be thinking of it, too. “No, we’re staying, babe.” She gives Stevie a smile, too; a more curated one than the one Twyla had doled out so easily. “Thanks.” 

Stevie nods, sets everything down, and heads back toward the bar. 

“You sure?” Twyla checks, as Alexis reaches for the pitcher and starts filling their glasses. 

“ _Hunny p_ , Twy,” Alexis says firmly. Looking at Twyla, a smile comes easily to her lips. “We’re going to stay here so everyone can tell you how stunning you look on camera.” 

“Lex,” Twlya laughs, “I don’t know about - ”

Alexis presses a glass into her hand, and then taps her own pint again Twyla’s. “To my gorgeous girlfriend,” she says, and gives Twyla a kiss before she can begin to protest. 

“To mine, too,” Twyla insists when they pull apart, and they clink their glasses together one more time before they drink.

  


* * *

  


The car pulls to a stop right in front of Twyla’s cute little house. They left a lamp on in the living room, and the warm glow of light in the living room is inviting. 

“Your destination, _mademoiselles_ ,” Roland says, in the strange ‘fancy’ voice he tends to put on around Alexis. 

“Goodnight, girls,” Jocelyn says, reaching back between the driver and passenger seats to give Twyla’s knee a squeeze. Her smile is warm, but it passes only briefly over Alexis. Despite the _TEAM TWYLEXIS_ t-shirt Jocelyn’s wearing, with its artwork of cuddling cartoon kittens, hearts floating above their heads, Alexis gets the sense that she’s going to have to win Jocelyn over again. She also gets the sense that it might not be entirely easy to do in the face of a fresh hour and twenty minutes of every choice she made on _The Bachelor_ airing in prime time each week. 

“Night,” Twyla says, reaching out to give Jocelyn’s forearm a squeeze. Alexis watches her meet Roland’s eyes in the rearview mirror, throwing him a smile, and then lean over to smack a kiss against the top of Rollie’s head, which he makes a big show of trying to escape. 

“Goodnight,” Alexis adds as she opens the door, the cool breeze sweeping a few errant snowflakes into the car. “Thank you for the ride.” 

“Anything for our local celebrities,” Roland says, giving them a two-finger salute. 

“I think she was thanking the designated driver, hon,” Jocelyn says, waving at Twyla and Alexis as the car door swings shut behind them. 

Alexis finds herself exhaling a long, relieved breath once she’s out of the car and has turned to face the house. As the Schitts drive away, Twyla slips her hand into the crook of Alexis’ elbow, their arms pressing together as she tilts forward slightly to look into Alexis’ face. 

“Okay, Lex?” she asks softly. 

“Yeah,” Alexis says, nodding a little as she pulls up a smile. “Yeah. It’s just - it’s weird. To relive something like this.” 

“Yeah,” Twyla agrees. She starts up the walkway toward the porch, and Alexis falls into step with her automatically. “It is.” 

Alexis can feel the space Twyla has left for her to say more, if she wants to, so she takes a breath and says, “It’s… I know you had a relationship with Mutt; I _saw_ it. And obviously, I… did too. But watching it back still feels like I’m watching him kiss my girlfriend.” 

“And you want to do something about it?” Twyla asks with a playful little quirk of her eyebrow, releasing Alexis in order to take out her eyes and unlock the door. 

“Yeah,” Alexis says simply, honestly, “and… ” She taps snow off her heeled boots before she steps inside, undoing the buttons on her coat slowly. “I know we _talked_ about it, then, and obviously I saw you with the rose…” 

Twyla slips off her coat and hangs it neatly on a hook, followed by the scarf she unwinds from around her neck. She reaches over and gently pushes Alexis’ jacket off her shoulders; Alexis slips her arms out of the sleeves and then passes it over to Twyla’s waiting hands. 

“What are you saying, babe?” Twyla asks as she hangs Alexis’ coat up neatly next to her own. 

Alexis’ fingers tangle together without her coat’s buttons to fiddle with. “You guys, like…” She glances away from Twyla, feeling sort of embarrassed; they have, after all, already _lived_ both their relationships with Mutt, not to mention their relationship with each other. All the same, she blurts, “You really _connected._ ” 

The smile on Twyla’s lips is small and almost secretive - Alexis can’t quite discern its meaning. Twyla’s hands wrap around hers, thumbs stroking over Alexis’ knuckles. “And then,” she says, moving closer and lifting up Alexis’ hand, kissing her palm,“ _we_ really connected.” 

“I know,” Alexis says, because she does, and she can’t help but smile as she shifts closer to Twyla, bumping their noses together before she steals a kiss. 

“What is it?” Twyla asks, sensing Alexis’ remaining hesitation. She wraps Alexis’ arms around her own waist before settling her hands on Alexis’ hips. “Tell me.” 

Alexis scrunches up her nose, feeling embarrassed, again, about how that warped, heavily-edited season promo weaseled its way into her head. “At the end,” she says quietly, “they kind of made it look like I broke your heart.” 

Twyla’s head tips to one side, and she presses her body lightly into Alexis’. “Lex,” she says. “Baby. You did the exact opposite of that.” 

That sets butterflies loose in Alexis’ stomach, and she slides both her hands into the back pockets of Twyla’s jeans. “Yeah?” she says. 

Twyla rises onto her toes to kiss the juncture of Alexis’ neck and jaw, then tugs on Alexis’ earlobe with her teeth, avoiding Alexis’ double-drop earring. “ _Fuck_ yeah,” she says, words firm despite her soft murmur, and Alexis shivers in a way that makes her breathing shaky, stuttering through her throat. 

“But, Twy,” she says, even as Twyla’s mouth moves down her neck and one of Twyla’s hands brushes up the side of her body, a soft, teasing touch against the swell of her breast, “what if everyone here sees all that and they - ”

“Everyone’s going to love you just as much as I love you,” Twyla says, fingers tugging at the neckline of Alexis’ dress, skimming over the lace on her bra. Her feet - in socks that feature little hedgehogs wearing Santa hats, even though it’s January - nudge into Alexis’, so Alexis shifts backward, and finds herself pressed against the front door, Twyla’s tongue dipping into one of her bra cups. 

“ _Twy_ ,” she breathes, arching her back a little, one hand lifting to sink into Twyla’s hair. Twyla presses a hand between her legs, and she gasps. 

“You kissed him, too, you know,” Twyla murmurs. She sounds, all at once, matter-of-fact and wry and _heated_ , and Alexis’ head feels like it’s spinning. “I saw your _tongue_ go into his mouth.” 

It takes Alexis a second to find words again. “Nothing,” she manages to say, “like it is with you.” She pulls Twyla’s hair to tip her head back and kisses her deeply, sliding her other hand beneath Twyla’s shirt, splaying her fingers to feel as much of Twyla’s skin as possible. Twyla’s hands have found the hem of her dress, and are pulling it upward. 

Alexis breaks the kiss reluctantly, her teeth tugging at Twyla’s bottom lip until the last possible instant, figuring that Twyla probably wants to get her out of her dress, but Twyla kisses her throat, and then the golden _A_ that hangs around her neck, before dropping to her knees on the tile. 

“Babe,” Alexis says with a tiny shake of her head, her hand smoothing over Twyla’s hair, “let’s go to - ” But she doesn’t have a chance to say _the living room_ , because Twyla’s got her dress bunched up at her hips and her underwear tugged to the side and her mouth on Alexis, tongue moving in sure strokes. Alexis’ fingers clench in Twyla’s hair and her other hand scrambles for something to hold onto and finds the doorknob, which she grips desperately. “Twy, oh my god,” she whimpers; Twyla’s got one hand wrapped around Alexis’ thigh, fingers pressing hard into her skin, and she’s not wasting time, lips on Alexis’ clit in a way that has her hips bucking and her head pressing, hard, back against the door. “ _Twyla_ ,” she pleads breathlessly, and when Twyla curls two fingers inside of her Alexis is _done_ , coming against Twyla’s mouth, her fingers tight in her girlfriend’s hair. 

Twyla rides it out with her until Alexis, over-sensitive, pulls her hair softly. As Alexis gets her breath back, Twyla’s hands stroke over her shaking thighs, her mouth following their path with kisses and soft bites. Alexis cups Twyla’s cheek in her hand, stroking over Twyla’s pretty freckles with her thumb, before she tugs her dress back down and sinks down onto the floor next to Twyla. 

“Hi,” she says, a laugh attaching itself to the end of the word.

Twyla smiles, and it’s her flirtatious smile, the one where her teeth dig briefly into her bottom lip. “Hi,” she answers with a soft giggle. She runs her tongue along her lips and Alexis feels a fresh burst of want; she leans in for a kiss so fast their teeth knock together, but she doesn’t laugh at that, too busy tasting herself on Twyla’s mouth, sinking into the kiss as it deepens, one hand beneath Twyla’s shirt and then beneath her bra. 

Leaning back the slightest bit, Twyla finds Alexis’ eyes with her own and holds her gaze, steadily, as she says, “It was never like this with Mutt.” 

“Never,” Alexis agrees, and savours the sound of Twyla’s contented hum when she pulls her into another kiss.


	2. Week Two

**_/r/TheBachelor: I dissected Mutt's 🐶 season trailer so you don't have to_ ** __

_okay wow i can't believe the bachelor is back!! and obviously as soon as the trailer aired i found it online so i can do my annual dissection of what's to come. buckle up for this spoiler thread everyone!_

_you've been warned!_

_okay let's go! so first mutt is clearly yet another kissing bandit as we see him kiss a total of TEN (10) women in this trailer. yes i have seen the comments about how mita and laila look a lot alike and maybe he kisses just one of them but in the screenshots below u can see he obviously kisses both of them, look at the birthmark on mita's ear in the 3rd picture!_

_i think we can def assume a couple of the front runners here, tennessee is all over this trailer but she wasn't really in the premiere last night which is classic 'hiding the F1' behavior but i don't think we can disregard twyla getting the FIR._

_THAT'S RIGHT I SAID IT! YES i do still think twyla is in the running for F1 EVEN THOUGH there's all this stuff with her and alexis rose (omg i dressed up as her for halloween my freshman year of college lol i still can't believe she's on this season!) in the trailer._

_1 - we all know the producers love frankenbiting audio and we don't ACTUALLY see twyla's mouth forming the words 'all of her' since they cut to a shot of the vegas strip during it. they want us to think that twyla and alexis have a thing and that twyla has seen 'all of her' (saucy) but why would they just want us to think that right away?_

_2 - that hand stroking twyla's face was clearly mutt's hand, see screenshot below for comparison_

_3 - that makeout audio could still 100% be mutt and one of the other women_

_i mean YES it would be so amazing if we somehow finally had queer representation on the bachelor! i just feel like why would they TELL US in the trailer if so? totally takes away from the surprise and it doesn't seem like satan harrison's style you know? anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk, try to change my mind!_

  


* * *

  


twyla.sands **2.2K** likes  
**twyla.sands** Wow, thank you all so much for the sweet comments and DMs! I can't believe so many of you are tuning in to watch our little season of the Bachelor. It was an adventure that far surpassed any of my wildest dreams, and I can't wait for you all to watch it unfold! Like I said last week, I don't believe we have just one soulmate, and I wanted to introduce you to some of mine. I had the honour to meet so many wonderful women during the show's filming, and as you watch our season, please remember that we're all human and that's no one's perfect. In no particular order, here are a couple of gorgeous photos of my new best friends:  
  
1 - Shannon, I'll never forget your cowgirl vibes 🤠  
2 - Rachel, everyone knows gingers do it better 👩🦰  
3 - Ashlynn, you will always be the whiskey to my pickle juice 🥃🥒  
4 - Alexis, I hear you're a little bit single even when you're not 😏  
5 - Tennessee, you're still the only 1️⃣0️⃣ I see  
  
(post 1 out of 6)  View all 782 comments

  


* * *

  


Twyla sets her phone aside after she finishes her last post, then tries to turn onto her side as quietly as she can manage. Alexis is still asleep halfway across the bed, fully encroaching on Twyla's pillow, but it's nothing Twyla can't handle.

They'd known that the last seven days would be rough, but Alexis had weathered the majority of the storm for them both with a seemingly-unflappable, devil-may-care attitude. Alexis had turned one corner of Twyla's guest room into something that could reasonably pass for her Toronto apartment, and she still maintains her daily Instagram stories while in hiding, despite never leaving Twyla's house. She places a little handmade "on air" sign on the door when she's busy, even though she typically records while Twyla's at work at the café, and when she leaves her 'studio,' Twyla has learned to not immediately bombard Alexis with concerned looks and worried questions whenever her smile doesn't meet her eyes.

An instagram post isn't going to stop the trolls from DMing her girlfriend, but Twyla hates feeling so helpless. She's watched the lives when the comments come rolling in, and she's seen the replies that Alexis has received. A few contestants from previous seasons have reached out to Alexis, all of them somehow already knowing their secret – word travels fast in Bachelor Nation, she supposes – and as much as Alexis says it's helping, Twyla doesn't fully believe her.

At least they have this moment of peace and quiet between them, a tiny little break from the world at large before the next episode airs. There's a little patch of sunlight peeking in through her blinds, casting a bit of warmth onto Twyla's bed and framing Alexis, highlighting her messy bedhead and her face wiped clean of makeup, in its light. 

Despite Alexis' reputation and public image, there's nothing glamourous about her when they're together like this. Twyla loves waking up before her girlfriend, observing her at her most vulnerable and delicate. Alexis' hair is always everywhere, and when she sleeps, she breathes in funny little exhales that tickle whenever they're cuddling into each other. Sometimes, Twyla has to nudge her to stop snoring, even if Alexis will never admit to it during the day. But she didn't fall in love with Alexis just because of her gowns and perfect makeup, her mannerisms and charm. She loves every glimpse of the Alexis that's underneath the surface, the things only she gets to see. 

Twyla's still a little hyped from scrolling through her Instagram and making six posts in a row, but for once she isn't scheduled to work at the café. She can justify taking a little bit of time to herself. So she gently shifts closer, wrapping her arm around Alexis' waist and tucking her chin into Alexis' neck. 

She takes a deep breath, smiling contentedly as her eyes close; Alexis talks a big game about her toiletries and their expensive superiority, but Twyla can recognize the scent of her lotion on Alexis' skin. _Mine_ , she thinks, tightening her arm around her, and Alexis stirs.

"Twy," Alexis whispers after a moment, nuzzling her nose into the top of Twyla's hair. Twyla can feel her take a deep breath, then another, and she tilts her head so she can press her ear against the rise and fall of her chest. Alexis' heartbeat is steady underneath her, a quiet reminder of what they share between them, and Twyla smiles against the neckline of Alexis' camisole. "What time is it?"

"Go back to bed, Lex," Twyla murmurs; despite her words, though, she can't resist the urge to walk her fingertips up and down Alexis' spine, earning a little shiver. "It's early."

Alexis moves an arm onto Twyla's waist, pulling her close. "You always get up too early, baby. And then I miss you when you leave."

Twyla tilts her head up, smiling as she kisses the underside of Alexis' jaw. "I'm just in the other room, babe. And you're asleep. So how would you know if you're missing me?" 

"I just do." Alexis wiggles down so they're eye-to-eye, blinking sleepily. "I miss you whenever we aren't together."

"I miss you, too, babe." They meet in the middle for a quiet little kiss, and Twyla can't help but sigh happily against Alexis' lips as Alexis brings a hand up to caress her cheek. "I think I missed you my whole life." 

Alexis stares at her for a moment, her eyes conveying everything she can't say aloud, before she kisses Twyla again, tilting back until Twyla takes the hint, shifting on top of Alexis and sweeping her hair over one shoulder, moving it out of their way. Alexis is fully awake now, her hands roaming over Twyla's fleece pajamas as they trade kisses, then slipping under her shirt and onto her bare skin. 

"Lex," Twyla says on an exhale, catching her breath and shivering a little from the coolness of Alexis' palms. She's more than warm enough just from a few kisses, beaming down as Alexis smiles up at her, the one Twyla loves the most: big and open, rare in its warmth, a smile just for _her_. 

Alexis raises her eyebrows just as Twyla leans in for another kiss, the two of them trading a silent ask and answer, then coaxes Twyla's mouth open with her own as the energy shifts between them. Twyla loves these rare morning moments between them, slow and languorous, both of them taking their time, but she can't help the impatient sound she makes when Alexis' hands skim up her breasts, barely grazing her nipples, then pulls her hands away. 

"Tell me what you want, Twy," Alexis says, her voice low and heated. She tightens her hands on the lapels of Twyla's pajama shirt, gently tugging her down for another kiss. "Just wish your PJs weren't so thick. How am I supposed to grope you through them?"

Twyla laughs, biting a little at Alexis' lip in return, coaxing a quiet little noise out of her girlfriend. "It's _January_."

Alexis reaches down, brushing a hand between Twyla's legs, and makes a big show of rolling her eyes at the limited response she gets. "Baby, these are impractical." 

" _You're_ impractical." But Twyla's wiggling out of her pajamas regardless, kicking the pants aside. Her shirt follows suit soon enough, and she ducks back under the duvet, goosebumps all over her skin, and lets Alexis heat her up with her hands.

  


* * *

  


Twyla's in the middle of scrambling eggs when Alexis, wrapped in a blanket at the kitchen table and browsing idly on her phone, gets a FaceTime call. "David, I'm busy," she says, making a face at her screen. " _And_ it's early."

"It's eleven in the morning," David says, his voice a bit tinny through the phone.

Alexis looks over at Twyla with one eyebrow raised, almost daring her to chime in and agree with her brother, and Twyla grins and obligingly stays quiet. "It's early," Alexis repeats.

"Tell David I say hi," Twyla says, dividing the eggs between their plates. Alexis exchanges greetings between her brother and her girlfriend, then settles in to catch up while Twyla gets the rest of breakfast ready.

By the time she sits down next to Alexis, just in sight of the video chat, David's going through a long list: "Buzzfeed loves you, E! can go fuck itself – they're just jealous you're more relevant than they are – Sharleen named _both_ of you to her 'best dressed' list, _and_ the Demis have both been losing their shit on Instagram."

Alexis pauses, swallowing a bite of toast, then asks, "Wait, which other Demi is there besides Lovato?" 

"Demi Burnett," Twyla supplies. Alexis turns her phone so Twyla's more in the frame. "She came out two seasons ago, on _Paradise_." 

"And people still think you're in Toronto." David looks like he's trying to pull back on a grin. "Mom's put Jessica on one of her wig mannequins in the backseat of the car, and the staff have been driving it around twice a day."

Alexis' eyes go wide. "You're kidding. That's actually _working_? And –" Alexis clasps one hand to her heart. "Mom let them use _Jessica_?" 

" _Fuck_ yes. To all of the above." Twyla looks over at Alexis, unsure who Jessica is and why her girlfriend suddenly looks so emotional, but David keeps going: "And as long as we keep the geofencing up near your apartment, your snap filters will stay in place. No one will ever know you're not there." 

" _Da_ vid." Alexis smiles at her brother, and he tilts his head in acknowledgement of her unspoken thanks. "I actually kind of miss you." 

"Oh, that won't last long." David's smiling now, too, before he pulls it entirely back. "I'm eventually going to break the news of your whereabouts to the press myself, once I get tired of covering up for your queer ass."

"You should visit," Twyla says suddenly, surprising all three of them. "I mean, you'd have to keep a low profile, but – I'd really like to meet you, David." 

He's silent for a moment, one of his eyebrows arched and the rest of his face unreadable, before he asks: "You would?"

"Of course I would." Twyla smiles at him, and Alexis takes her hand underneath the table and squeezes it tightly. "You're Alexis' brother, so that means you're family. Why wouldn't I want to meet you?" 

He looks over at Alexis, gauging her reaction, then says, "Wow, she's really like this, huh?"

"Yup," Alexis says happily. "She really is." 

"So you'll come visit?" Twyla asks, interrupting. "You can stay with us. I have plenty of space." 

"I'll check my calendar," David says loftily, but he asks about free weekends before he hangs up the call.

  


* * *

  


"What did David mean earlier?" Twyla asks, once the dishes have been put away and they're both on their second mugs of coffee, side by side on the couch. A movie's on, but neither of them are watching. "When he asked you if I'm 'really like this'?"

"Oh, babe." There's a little bit of guilt on Alexis' face as she looks back over at her, and for a moment Twyla's heart sinks. "It's nothing serious."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Twyla says. She shifts a little, turning sideways under Alexis' arm to better look up at her. "It was big enough for him to mention it, and for you to agree."

"David's an idiot." Alexis waits, eyes on Twyla's, to see if one the subject will change or the movie will fill the space between them, before she adds, "And he just…" She twists her lips to one side, looking guilty, and her voice gets a little quieter. "It's just that David doesn't believe people like you exist. Like, genuinely good people."

"Oh." Twyla isn't sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. And from the look on Alexis' face, she's pretty sure it had been an opinion shared between the two of them. "I see."

Alexis tightens her arm around Twyla's shoulders, running her fingers through the ends of her hair. "Yeah. And I, you know. I told him that they do. And that you're one of them."

Twyla's throat tightens. She wants to pull Alexis in against her, kiss her forehead and her hair and protect her from anyone who's ever allowed her to create a theory that good people don't exist and, with every heartbreak, solidify that theory into law. She wants to jump on her rooftop and scream out against the internet trolls that Alexis is _hers_. 

But this is Alexis Rose, and even if Twyla's absolutely sure of how deeply they love one another, she also knows Alexis' limits of emotional exploration. So she taps Alexis' nose with her fingertip as Alexis wraps her other arm around Twyla, pulling her into a hug. 

"You're a good person, too," Twyla says, and Alexis breathes an _I love you_ against the top of her head.

  


* * *

  


alexis.rose **1.1 million** likes  
**alexis.rose** It’s a journey, babes. 😘 Who’s watching The Bachelor tonight?!  
  
📷: averywright  View all 6988 comments

  


* * *

  


Morning in the mansion is unexpectedly loud. Alexis wakes up to the whirring sound of hairdryers, the clatter of makeup products against countertops, the sounds of a shower running, and at least twenty women’s voices. When she rolls over and peeks out from her duvet at the room, she finds it empty, the door halfway open. 

There are a couple clothing items on the floor by Shannon and Rachel’s bunks, but none by her own. Alexis lifts her leg and pokes her big toe between the slats that the top bunk rests on, nudging the mattress. “Twyla?” she asks, stifling a yawn. 

There’s no response, and Alexis pouts a little at having been ditched by both her roommates _and_ her bunkmate, even though she hates to have her beauty sleep disturbed. She tosses off her duvet, eager to see what everyone else is up to, and ducks out of her bunk, careful not to hit her head. Once she’s on her feet, she stretches her arms up above her head and rolls out her neck. 

“Hey, good morning!” Mita calls from out in the hall, walking by with half her hair curled and offering Alexis a quick wave. 

“Good morning,” Alexis calls after her. She rifles through her already-unzipped suitcase, finds a pair of joggers, and slips those on under her nightie before tugging on a pair of socks. As she wanders out into the hallway, moving toward the kitchen, she finger-combs a couple tangles out of her hair and tousles it at the roots. She learned long ago how to make her bedhead look windswept and stylish. 

There are nine women in the kitchen, including all three of her roommates, standing close together by the stove. Twyla looks up when Alexis walks in, and offers an easy, wide smile as she says, “Morning!” 

Alexis smiles back at her; it’s impossible not to. She makes a vague mental note to tell Twyla to hook up with one of those tooth-whitening brands for her post- _Bachelor_ Insta content – not because Twyla’s smile needs help but because it’s downright enviable. 

“Eggs, Alexis?” Rachel asks, flipping an omelette, tongue poked out between her teeth in concentration. 

“Mm, yes please, girl,” Alexis says with a slight shimmy. Rachel gasps when she nearly drops her spatula. 

Alexis makes her way around the counter to stand next to Twyla, who’s already dressed for the day in a striped tee that’s knotted right where it meets the waistband of her jeans. Her earrings, Alexis notes, are tiny silver dogs. 

“Nobody woke me up,” Alexis says, allowing her pout to reemerge for a moment before she rests her chin briefly against the top of Twyla’s head. 

“We all got dressed in the room,” Twyla says. When she speaks, her head bumps Alexis’ chin lightly. “And you didn’t even stir. Figured we should let you sleep.” 

“Hm.” Alexis eases the mug Twyla’s holding out of her hands and steals a sip. The coffee’s not _quite_ as sweet as she usually likes it, but it’s still good. 

“I think this is done, Rach,” Shannon says, hands on her hips as she examines the omelette. She looks over at Alexis. “You’re not allergic to anything, right?” 

“Just pitted fruits,” Alexis says, handing the mug of coffee back to Twyla, who looks faintly bemused as she accepts it. 

“Like… peaches?” Twyla asks. “Cherries?” 

Alexis nods, observing as Rachel cuts the sizeable omelette into four even pieces. “I can still tie a stem into a knot in my mouth,” she says, throwing Twyla a quick wink. “Just can’t eat the fruit.” 

Shannon returns from retrieving a handful of cutlery and gives Alexis a long look. “You have interesting priorities,” she finally says, but not in a judgy way, so Alexis just grins at her as she accepts a plate. 

“Thanks, Shan!” she chirps. 

They all sit down at the large dining table, but Alexis only has time to take three bites of her omelette before Verity, one of the executive producers, is striding through the kitchen with a very determined look in her eyes and the mic attached to her headset held away from her mouth. 

“Ladies, let’s gather!” she calls. “Let’s gather, please. There’s a card from Mutt waiting for you.” Rachel gasps at this news, and across the table, Ashlynn squeals. Verity doesn’t react, just continues, “Main room in twenty minutes! Dressed for the day. Let’s move!” 

Alexis sighs, giving her omelette a forlorn look as she stands from her chair. “Gotta change,” she explains, at Twyla’s questioning look. 

Twyla holds out her mug, still half-full. “Have the rest of this, at least.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Alexis says, flashing Twyla a bright smile. She holds the mug in both hands as she jogs back to their room, and takes a long drink before she dives into her suitcase. She settles on a casual outfit, throws her hair up into a charmingly messy bun, and completes her ten-minute makeup routine between sips of coffee. She fastens her necklace with an A-shaped pendant around her neck, the finishing touch, before she returns to the main living area of the mansion, where twenty-two women are milling around under Verity’s scrutinizing gaze. 

Alexis joins the other women who are waiting to be mic’d up, offering the group at large a friendly smile. Chloe-or-Zoe hands her a wire and instructs, “Up under your shirt,” in the tired tone of a person who’s said those exact words ten times already this morning. Alexis clips the mic to her bra, and the producer helps attach the transmitter pack to the back of her jeans. 

“You’re good to go,” Chloe-or-Zoe says. 

“Thanks,” Alexis says, and decides to hazard a guess, because she really needs to learn her producer’s name. “Chloe, right?” 

Zoe - and Alexis knows this to be her name, now, judging by the exhausted-but-resigned expression on her face - sighs and says, “Sure.” 

Alexis winces and reaches out to give Zoe’s forearm an apologetic little squeeze. “Sorry, girl. Zoe.” She taps her temple. “It’s locked in now. _Gorgeous_ name, by the way!” 

Zoe moves on to the next contestant without further comment, which Alexis chooses not to take personally. The women are gathering on and just behind the large sectional sofa, so she heads over to join them. Twyla’s seated on the sofa, the palm of her hand pressed into the cushion at her side, like she’s saving a place. Alexis wonders if that seat is saved for her, and finds herself biting the inside of her lower lip at the thought. 

Before she reaches Twyla, though, Madison and another woman whose name she has yet to learn brush by her, and sit right down between Twyla and Laila, so quickly that Twyla has to snatch her hand away and Laila shuffles over to get some semblance of personal space back. Twyla’s eyes find Alexis’, and the look on her face is far more apologetic than the situation calls for. Alexis gives her head a small shake and her eyes a conspiratorial roll before circling the sofa to stand behind it, hooking her arm through Rachel’s as she goes, steering Rachel into the spot beside her. 

“We set?” someone behind the camera calls. 

Verity nods and waves her hand at them. “Talk amongst yourselves.” 

Out of the corner of her mouth, Rachel murmurs to Alexis, “This is weird.” 

“Yeah,” she agrees. It’s different than _A Little Bit Alexis_ , which mostly involved cameras following her through her day and the occasional scripted product placement. Everything here feels a lot more purposeful; more manufactured. She gives Rachel’s hip a bump with her own. “You can relax, babe. Just be yourself.” 

Rachel shoots her a somewhat fraught look. “I think that’s easier for people like you than it is for people like me.” She sighs, and Alexis is pleased to note that her shoulders, which were drawn up to her ears, have fallen slightly. “I don’t think I belong here.” 

“You belong wherever you want to be,” Alexis tells her. 

Rachel half-smiles. “Right now, I kind of want to be anywhere but in this room.”

“Ladies!” Chris Harrison says, strolling in, a small envelope in one of his hands. “Good morning!” 

“Good morning,” Alexis replies, alongside the other women, their voices blurring together. 

“How are we doing? Settling in? Excited to be here?” Alexis spies a camera tracking across the room, catching their nods and smiles, before Chris says, “I have here… the first date card.” He lays it down on the coffee table with an undue amount of ceremony. “I’ll leave this right here for you, and I’ll see you soon.” 

There are a few _thank-yous_ and _byes!_ called as he leaves the room. Verity consults something on another producer’s clipboard and calls, “Nicole? Can we get you to read this one?” When Nicole starts to rise from her seat, Verity adds, “Hang on, sit back down. We want an uninterrupted shot.”

Nicole sits, gets back up again, and opens up the envelope, pulling the date card out. “Madison,” she reads. Madison preens, grasping the hand of the woman sitting next to her and flipping her hair back over her shoulder. “Ashlynn, Magdalena…” 

In total, Nicole reads out eight names, including Rachel’s, but not including Alexis’. She concludes by reading the message: “I _wood_ love to spend the day with you. Love, Mutt.”

There’s some tittering and a few excited exclamations as the women whose names were on the date card gather near the front of the room. Rachel goes to join them with a quick, hesitant look back in Alexis’ direction. 

“Wear something you can move in,” Verity says, her voice cutting through the chatter. “Leggings, preferably ankle-length. You’ll want to put your hair up.” 

“Oh my god, what are we _doing_?” Ashlynn asks on a laugh as they all hurry off to get changed, high on the anticipation of seeing Mutt. 

Alexis rests her elbows against the back of the sofa, leaning down between Twyla and Laila. “What do you think the rest of us are supposed to do?”

Laila shrugs, and Twyla twists to face Alexis more directly. “You can finish your eggs,” she says. “I wrapped your plate and put it in the fridge for you.” 

The only other person who’s ever wrapped up Alexis’ unfinished food for her is their housekeeper-slash-nanny Adelina, about a billion eons ago. It wasn’t even something she thought to do for herself, today. The fact that it occurred to Twyla to do so, and that she just went ahead and did it, makes Alexis’ throat ache fiercely for an instant. 

“That was so sweet of you, Twy,” she says. “Come with? I’ll make you a new cup of coffee.” 

“I can do it,” Twyla says, getting to her feet and circling the sectional to join Alexis. “It’s a Keurig; it’s super easy.” 

“Then I will _definitely_ make it for you,” Alexis says, relieved. “I’m great at pushing buttons.”

  


* * *

  


Alexis spends the bulk of the day stretched out by the pool, because there’s honestly not much else to do. They’re not allowed to have their phones or internet access, period, and while Alexis does have a flip-phone stowed away in a secret pocket in her suitcase, because she never goes anywhere without a burner, not after what happened in Jayapura, it’s only for emergencies, not to attempt to check Twitter. 

Rachel returns from the outdoorsy group date looking far more relaxed than she did when she left; Madison, on the other hand, storms through the mansion with barely-repressed indignation, something that might be a twig caught in her hair extensions. Alexis hurries after Rachel toward their room, tying a sarong around her hips as she goes, in case Rachel needs help picking out an outfit for the cocktails-and-chatting part of the date.

Shannon and Twyla meet them there, too, and they all give their seal of approval to the little black dress Rachel plans to wear. Alexis itches to cajole Rachel into one of her own dresses, something with a little more colour, something a little more adventurous, but she knows better than to try and shove Rachel even further out of her comfort zone. Shannon does manage to persuade Rachel to borrow a pair of earrings, and they gather around her like bridesmaids, making sure every lock of hair is in place, that she’s wearing just enough lip gloss. 

It’s kind of weird, if Alexis lets herself think too hard about it. The vibe in the room is giddy, friendly, encouraging - but they’re prepping Rachel for a date with a man they’re _all_ trying to end up with. She can practically hear her brother’s voice in her head, see his hands drawing lines through the air: _I have no interest in this bizarre, unbalanced social dynamic._

Once Rachel rushes off, an endearingly hopeful smile on her glossy lips, Alexis and Twyla and Shannon sit in their room, their day having lost any semblance of structure once again. Twyla yawns, a hand lifting quickly to cover her mouth. 

Shannon looks at her watch, which she wears with its face on the underpart of her wrist, like a busy professional. “I think dinner’s soon,” she says. “Should we…” She shrugs. “Have a drink?” 

Alexis nods, glancing over at Twyla to see what she thinks. 

Twyla’s silent for a beat, and then she says, somewhat incredulously, “I literally can’t think of anything else to do.” 

“Welcome to reality television,” Alexis tells her wryly. She gets to her feet. “I’m just gonna change.” 

Twyla bolts to her feet. “Okay. We’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she says. 

“Sounds good, girl,” Alexis says easily, but Twyla’s already halfway out the door.

  


* * *

  


The next day, Alexis wakes up with her roommates and gets dressed before they all make their way to the kitchen. Rachel seems to be in better spirits, which Alexis is happy to see, and waking up earlier means she actually has time to eat breakfast, accepting a plate loaded with pancakes from the endless batch Tennessee and Hannah are making. 

Conversation in the kitchen and dining room is loud and sporadic, punctuated with occasional bursts of laughter. Alexis isn’t a morning person, so she doesn’t participate much, but she does listen to Ashlynn talk about her adored beagle, to Magdalena’s hushed description of Madison trying to use an axe on yesterday’s group date, and to Nicole’s detailed defense of press-on nails as a quick-and-easy manicure. She’s about to interject with a point about the importance of cuticle care when Verity walks in. 

“ _Today_?” Nicole asks, cutting herself off and sitting up straighter in her chair, like a student hoping to be called on by a teacher. “I thought dates were spread out over a week?” 

“Sometimes,” Alexis says sagely, “a week in TV is way shorter than a real week.” 

Twyla, at her left, is also watching Verity with unmistakable interest. “How many people do you think will be on the next date?” 

Alexis glances at Nicole, but Nicole seems equally unsure, shrugging as she says, “Who knows. Might be eight, or six… or it might be a one-on-one.” 

Now that they’ve done it once, all the women getting mic’d and settling onto and behind the sectional sofa takes less time. Verity calls, her voice pitched to demand attention, “We have two things to film here. Two date cards. Is Chris - ” She turns toward another producer. 

“Ohmygod,” Nicole breathes, grabbing onto Alexis’ hand and leaning forward so that she can see both Alexis and Twyla, who is on Alexis’ other side. “One of those is _definitely_ the one-on-one.” 

Alexis gives Nicole’s hand a reassuring squeeze, since she seems to need it, and takes Twyla’s hand, too. “Maybe it’ll be you,” she tells Twyla, voice low enough that no one else should be able to hear. “Since you got the first rose.” 

“I don’t know,” Twyla says. She looks truly nervous, so Alexis squeezes her hand, too, and pulls it into her own lap, holding it firmly. 

The cameras roll. Chris Harrison walks in, leaves a date card on the table with what Alexis is learning is his usual unnecessary pomp and circumstance, and departs again. Verity asks Laila to read it. 

The air is very still in the room, like all the women have stopped breathing in anticipation. Laila opens the envelope, removes the date card, and reads, “Alexis.”

Twyla takes a sharp, startled breath. Nicole squeals, as does Shannon, standing behind them and reaching out to jostle Alexis’ shoulder excitedly. Alexis didn’t think she really cared whose name was on the card, but with Nicole shaking one of her hands and Twyla holding so tightly to the other, a grin ends up taking over her face. 

Laila smiles back at her and finishes reading off the message on the card: “I’m looking for a partner. Love, Mutt.” 

Nicole wraps Alexis up in an enthusiastic hug, which Alexis returns with one arm, her other hand still in Twyla’s. Across the room, Verity is snapping her fingers. Alexis looks toward her, and she mouths, _you need to go get ready_. 

So Alexis delivers the line she’s been fed, says, “I guess I need to go get ready!” On impulse, she gives Twyla a quick hug before she gets up and walks out of the room, where Zoe is waiting for her. 

“Your date will actually be tomorrow,” Zoe says. “There’s another group date today.” She hands Alexis a little card that has the headings _day_ and _evening_ above two small lists. “Some guidelines for what you’ll want to wear during the day. And cocktail wear for evening. There’ll be a break in between the two for you to change. Pick out your outfit and anything else you need - curling iron, makeup, jewellery, shoes - beforehand.”

“Um, okay,” Alexis says. “Thanks.”

Zoe nods. “Let me know if you have any questions.” 

A new round of excited sounds erupts from the main room, and Alexis glances back over her shoulder. 

“You’re free,” Zoe says, sweeping a hand toward the rest of the mansion before she and her clipboard head over to join a couple other producers. 

Alexis lingers where she is, though, waiting until the other women begin streaming out of the main room. Shannon spots her and tells Alexis, with a tilt of her impeccable brows, “Something about meeting a best friend.” 

“Are you going?” Alexis asks eagerly. 

Shannon nods. Alexis can tell she’s excited, despite how hard she’s trying not to look it. “I have to go fix my hair,” she adds, wincing, and dashes off. 

Twyla doesn’t seem to have made her way out into the hall, yet, so Alexis goes looking for her, and finds Twyla exactly where she left her, sitting on the sofa. There’s only one other woman remaining in the room - Alexis thinks her name is Brittany, or maybe Brianna - sitting at the other end of the couch, studying her nails. 

“Hey,” she says, dropping down onto the same cushion that Twyla’s sitting on. 

Twyla looks surprised to see her there. “Hey. I… thought you were getting ready for your date.”

“It’s not until tomorrow, apparently. Why aren’t _you_ getting ready for a date?” 

Twyla shrugs, and Alexis notices how delicate her shoulders are, how small. “My name wasn’t on the card.” 

Alexis scowls, upset on her behalf. “What? Really?” 

Twyla nods. She draws in a breath, very slowly, and releases it in the same measured way. “Yeah.” 

“Well,” Alexis says. “Mutt’s loss, but a _total_ win for me, babe. We can have a girls’ day!”

The look in Twyla’s eyes, as she regards Alexis, is almost careful, like she’s guarding something. “I don’t, um… I can’t really lay out by the pool for too long. I burn pretty easily.”

“That’s fine,” Alexis says, waving the idea of tanning away with a flick of her wrist. “We’ll do something else.” She can feel her eyes widening as an idea comes to her, and she leans in closer to Twyla to say, excitedly, “ _Face masks._ ”

  


* * *

  


Once all the women going on the date have finished monopolizing the bathrooms and left the mansion, Alexis brings her toiletry bag loaded with skincare products into the one nearest to their room, Twyla following after her with an air of mild apprehension. 

“Makeup off first,” Alexis instructs, handing Twyla her favourite cleansing oil and a couple clean cotton rounds. A cameraman hovers in the door, which she left open behind them. It’s kind of uncomfortable, to be filmed in the bathroom, but then again, Alexis has taken a thousand selfies in club washrooms, and she guesses this isn’t all that different. 

“This is… interesting,” Twyla says. She pulls an elastic off her wrist and uses it to tie her hair up in a jaunty, bouncing ponytail. “I usually just use makeup wipes.” 

Alexis gasps, whirling toward her. “Twy, no. Ohmygod, no. Babe. No. Look at your - ” She touches her fingertips to Twyla’s jaw. “Your pretty skin. And you subject it to all that....” She shudders. “ _Tugging._ Ugh. My brother would, like, _cry_ if he heard you say that.” 

Twyla smiles, carefully smoothing the cotton round over her face. “Your brother’s into skincare?” 

“Very,” Alexis says, holding a cotton round over her eye briefly so the cleansing oil can soak into her waterproof liner. “He made me start using eye cream when I was ten.” 

Twyla looks at Alexis’ reflection in the mirror, meeting her uncovered eye. She can just _tell_ , by the little pull at one side of Twyla’s mouth, what her roommate and new bestie is thinking. “It’s okay,” she says. “You can share mine. It’s from La Mer, it will _not_ let you down.” 

“It might be too late for my undereyes,” Twyla jokes. “I’m fourteen years behind you.” 

Alexis shakes her head and chirps, “No time like the present!” 

Once they’ve tossed their makeup-smeared cotton rounds, Alexis gets out her beloved Orchidee Imperiale face mask, along with two different flat brushes to apply it to both of their faces. 

“You’re already, like, _so_ fresh-faced, Twy, but this will make your skin _even more_ radiant.” Her shoulders move in a satisfied shimmy. “Mutt will eat his heart out when he sees you at the Rose Ceremony.” 

Twyla looks a bit doubtful, but she doesn’t express any uncertainty aloud, just reaches for one of the brushes. “Okay. What do I do?” 

Alexis considers Twyla’s face and her beloved mask and decides that both deserve her expert touch. “I’ll apply it for you,” she says decisively. “If that’s cool?”

“Sure.”

Alexis beams. “Awesome.” She takes the lid off the mask, wields her brush like an artist about to begin a masterpiece, and then pauses. She shoves aside her toiletry bag, making some space on the countertop. “Want to hop up here? So we can be, like - ” She waves the brush between her face and Twyla’s, “Eye level.” 

“Um, okay!” Twyla hops up to sit on the counter. She clasps her hands in her lap, crosses her legs at the ankle, and tilts her chin forward as she closes her eyes, presenting a perfect, patient canvas. Alexis’ smile softens, and she dips the brush into the mask before she begins painting it, with detailed precision, right up against Twyla’s hairline. 

Twyla’s nose scrunches, and her lips press together. “That tickles,” she says. 

“Sorry,” Alexis laughs. She nudges one of Twyla’s knees with her hip, and when Twyla uncrosses her ankles, knees parting slightly, she wiggles her way right between Twyla’s legs, getting closer as she carefully applies the mask around Twyla’s eyes and mouth. 

Twyla’s hands have moved to either side of her body, and are curled around the edge of the countertop. “Still tickling?” Alexis asks, then, “Ohmygod, it’s not burning anywhere, is it?” 

“No,” Twyla says, opening her mouth as little as possible. “It’s okay.” 

“Okay, good.” Alexis finishes off Twyla’s chin, announces, “All done!” and steps back, setting down the brush she’s holding and picking up another to apply her own mask. 

Eyes a little squinty, like she’s worried about opening them all the way, Twyla watches her. “You do this kind of thing all the time?” she asks. 

“Yup,” Alexis says, swiping the mask over one of her cheeks. She hasn’t applied it around her eyes, yet, so she throws a wink in Twyla’s direction as she adds, “But I don’t share this mask with just anyone. It’s my secret weapon.” 

Twyla’s quiet for a moment. When she finally speaks again, she says, “Lucky me, then.” 

And even though it causes Alexis’ setting mask to crack, she grins, because she’s pretty sure Twyla wasn’t feeling lucky after the dates were announced, which means that she’s done what she intended to do: she’s cheered Twyla up.

  


* * *

  


They stay up past midnight, listening to Shannon talk about the group date, which involved feeding, washing, and walking shelter dogs. Still, Alexis gets up bright and early in the morning, excited for her date with Mutt. Rachel makes eggs again, and Alexis is in charge of toast. While they’re eating at one end of the table, Madison and the two women who seem to have attached themselves to her - Alexis still hasn’t managed to learn their name - settle in at the other end. 

As she finishes her meal, Alexis can hear what Madison’s saying, which is undoubtedly her intent: “... just gave her the one-on-one for ratings. But I’m sure they’ll be disappointed. Nobody cares about a washed-up _reality star_ whose own show got _cancelled_.”

Twyla, who’s obviously heard as well, shoots an agonized glance in Alexis’ direction. She gives her head a shake and taps Twyla’s foot with her own, a gesture that’s meant to say, _don’t worry about it; keep eating._ She’s dealt with far worse than Madison. 

But still, when Alexis goes back to their room to get ready and finalize her outfit choices, Twyla hurries in after her and shuts the door. “What Madison said - ” she starts, her brows creased together in concern. 

“Aw, Twy,” Alexis says. She crosses the room and uses her thumb to try and smooth out Twyla’s skin. “I don’t care; it’s whatever. Listen, I’ve escaped from the Yakuza, okay. In five inch heels. So Madison is, like, literally not a big deal.” 

Twyla blinks, appears to tuck her desire to ask about the Yakuza story away, and says, “I just don’t understand why she’s treating you like this.” 

Alexis shrugs, returning to her bed, where all her outfit options are laid out. “She sees me as her competition. And she’s not wrong. We’re all in competition here.”

“But _we_ don’t treat each other like that. Or Shannon or Rachel or Nicole - ”

“Because Madison is fundamentally insecure,” Alexis says firmly. “Like, I pity her therapist.” She smiles at Twyla over her shoulder. “And you and me, we _know_ what we have to offer Mutt, because we’re boss babes.” She lets her smile slip into a playful pout. “But this boss babe would still really love some help deciding what to wear.” 

“Of course,” Twyla says, joining her by the bed. 

“You’re the best, babe,” Alexis says. She slips an arm around Twyla’s waist and gives her a quick squeeze. “So sweet of you to, like, check on me.”

“We’re… friends,” Twyla says, like that explains everything. 

“Mmhm, mmhm,” Alexis hums in agreement, nodding aggressively as she clears a space on her bed for Twyla to sit, and then strips out of her shorts and shirt. “Tell me your _honest_ opinion, okay?” she asks as she reaches for one of the dresses she’s deciding between. 

Twyla nods, her gaze focused intently on Alexis’ face. “I will,” she promises. 

And she’s true to her word. Alexis shimmies into and out of four different dresses, three pairs of shorts, one skort that she has a love-hate relationship with, two tank tops, one blouse, and a t-shirt, and Twyla does her best to list the pros and cons of every option. She helps Alexis choose both her daytime and nighttime looks, and with Twyla’s input, Alexis feels confident in her decisions, looking over their selections approvingly as she weaves her hair into a braid - when she undoes it in the evening, she’s hoping her hair will be in soft waves. 

“You look beautiful,” Twyla says, even though Alexis’ glam look is all packed up by the door of their room, and she’s currently dressed in a casual outfit she hopes Mutt will appreciate. 

Alexis smiles her thanks. “Couldn’t have done it without you!” she says. She waggles her brows dramatically at Twyla. “Don’t wait up.” 

Twyla breathes out a laugh. “I won’t.” 

Alexis checks herself out in the mirror one last time, assuming a few poses to try and see her outfit from all possible angles. Happy with what she sees, she nods at herself, and then smiles, the same smile she wears in virtually every picture she posts to social media. 

“Okay,” she says approvingly, to herself, and opens up the bedroom door. 

“Alexis,” Twyla says suddenly, from behind her. 

She turns around quickly in the doorway, eyebrows lifted, ready to be told she has a funky tan line somewhere or that her mascara is flaking. Twyla’s still sitting on her bed, legs crossed, looking for all the world like a college student in a dorm room. Her elbow is on her knee, her cheek resting against her palm, and there’s something in her expression that Alexis can’t read. 

“Have fun,” is what she says. There’s something about her smile that looks forced, and Alexis gets it - she’s dated two people at once before, and it’s never fun when someone else goes off with your boyfriend. 

It’s her instinct to respond playfully; _I always do, babe!_ is on the tip of her tongue. But she finds herself swallowing those words, and she says, instead, “Thanks, Twy.” 

Twyla nods, still smiling. Alexis blows her a kiss, and makes her way to the front door and out of the mansion, where a car is waiting. She’s surprised to find someone other than Zoe standing next to it, foot tapping impatiently. 

“Hi,” she says, and finds herself getting a critical once-over in return. She holds still for her cut-off shorts, strappy sandals, and aqua-blue halter top to be observed. 

“Mmhm. I like the braid.” 

Alexis lifts her hand automatically to finger the end of the fishtail braid hanging over one of her shoulders. “Thanks.” 

“I’m Avery,” they say, with a quick tap against the _they/them_ pin attached to the lapel of their ankle-length cardigan. “You’re one of mine now. Zoe and I did some switching.” 

Alexis cringes as she regards her new producer. “Is it because I called her Chloe earlier?” 

Avery snorts and grins at her. “Not exactly.” They open the back door of the car. “In you go.” 

Alexis climbs into the backseat, shuffling over when Avery gets in after her. “So,” they say, at the same time that Alexis asks, “Where are we going?”

“We at _The Bachelor_ believe in the joy of a good surprise,” Avery says, mouth twisting ironically. “But I can tell you that Mutt is _very_ excited to get to know you.” 

“I’m excited to get to know him, too,” Alexis says easily. 

“He’s had kind of a unique life. But I guess you have, too, haven’t you?” 

Alexis blinks. “Um. I guess? I’ve done some travelling, but that’s not… that special.” 

Avery arches a brow. “You had a reality show.”

Alexis demures. “Only for one season.” 

“Mutt’s lived a much quieter life. Is that why you think you’d be a good fit? The whole ‘opposites attract’ thing?” 

“I mean, um, maybe? I don’t know if I believe in that.” She smooths out her unwrinkled shirt. “But I believe in chemistry.” She flashes Avery her best mischievous grin. “And Mutt and I have chemistry.” 

“You do,” Avery agrees. “But maybe Mutt picked you for this date to see if you have a deeper connection, too. He’s not just looking for chemistry, you know? Not just that first spark. He’s looking for a wife.” 

“Right,” Alexis says, more quietly, her smile pulling back. 

“He’ll want to make sure you align on things. Which I’m sure you do.” Avery pats her knee. “What’s important to you. Your values. How you’d want to raise your kids.” 

Alexis’ chin juts forward slightly from the shock of their words as her eyebrows fly upward. “Our _kids_?” 

Avery tilts their head, regarding her with a strange mix of curiosity, scrupulousness, and encouragement. “You want kids, yeah?”

“I - ” Alexis’ mouth has gone dry. She casts another glance toward the window, searching for a distraction, and finds that the car is pulling up to what looks like a ranch. She exhales heavily and turns back to Avery with her bright smile affixed to her face again. “Are we here?” 

They nod as the car takes a right turn before slowing to a stop. “Mutt’ll be waiting for you.” They lean across the backseat and tell her, without an ounce of humour, “Jump on him.” 

Alexis’ already-shaken mind spins around once again. “What?” 

Avery reaches across her to open the door. “Mount the man,” they say very clearly, and then give her a gentle push toward the door. 

A cameramen is waiting when Alexis steps out of the car, and several metres behind him, Mutt, in jeans and a plaid shirt with its cuffs rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms. He waves at her, and a smile springs to her lips. At the sight of him, the expectation that she run into his arms doesn’t feel quite so much like a demand. 

She half-jogs her way over to him, and when she essentially leaps into his arms, he catches her easily, hands strong and sturdy and warm under her thighs. He breathes a soft _oomph_ when their bodies collide, and Alexis laughs - not giggles, but _laughs_ , genuinely, as she squeezes her arms around his shoulders in a hug. 

Mutt eases her back to the ground, hands sliding over her bare skin, and she smiles at him. In her flat sandals, they’re the same height, looking right into each other’s eyes. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Alexis says, because she feels like it’s what she’s supposed to say, but also because she means it. 

“It’s so good to see you, too,” he says, with that half-formed broody smile of his that could make anyone swoon. 

“I’m really happy you picked me for this date,” she says as Mutt takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. 

“I hope you stay happy,” he chuckles. He gives her hand a little tug, taking her with him as he turns and points off into the distance, where there are two saddled horses waiting. “What would you say to going on a ride with me?” 

Alexis looks at him coyly, through her lashes, and leans over so their shoulders touch. “I say giddy-up.”

  


* * *

  


They spend most of the ride flirting, Mutt teasing that his horse seems to like Alexis better than it likes him, and eventually removing the ridiculous cowboy hat that materialized at one point from his head and setting it on hers. It’s undoubtedly messing up her hair, but still, Alexis can’t stop herself from grinning at him and bantering about the town not being big enough for the both of them. 

The ride ends at a staged picnic site, complete with empty woven baskets as props and a striped blanket spread across the ground. Mutt pours white wine into plastic glasses for them both, and they tap them together before they drink. 

“To you and me,” Alexis says. 

“To you,” Mutt agrees. “And me.” His eyes move slowly over her face, like he’s looking for something. Alexis takes a perfunctory sip from her plastic glass, cups her other hand around the back of his neck, and kisses him. 

Mutt’s lips, like his hands, are surprisingly soft. His beard scrapes against Alexis’ chin and the skin above her lip a little, but not unbearably so. He tastes like the wine they’re drinking, fruity and herbal and a little bitter, and the slightest bit like cinnamon, like maybe he had oatmeal for breakfast. Alexis runs her tongue along his bottom lip, slips it into his mouth. She feels rather than hears the groan that draws from his throat, and she wonders, absently, if he’s worried about what their mics will pick up. 

“God,” he murmurs when they pull apart, sounding just this side of awed. Alexis laughs as she swipes a smudge of her lipstick off of the corner of his mouth, and curls her legs up, angling her body toward his so that her knees fall against one of his thighs. 

“You’re really good at that,” she tells him, half-teasing. 

Mutt looks amused, his hand resting against one of her kneecaps. “You too.”

“Thanks.” 

His head tilts slightly to one side. “What else are you good at?” 

Alexis lifts her eyebrows, a bit surprised by the question, and throws a quick glance toward Avery, who’s standing with another producer, both of them politely pretending they’re not watching and listening to everything that’s happening between Alexis and Mutt. 

“All kinds of things,” she ultimately answers, giving her eyebrows an extra little meaningful lift. She’s pretty sure the show can’t possibly be rated higher than PG-13, and while she knows from the few episodes of Heather’s season that she watched that it often leans into innuendo, she’s pretty sure she’s not supposed to tell Mutt everything she learned at Kiss Kiss in Tokyo. 

Mutt laughs, and shakes his head, but his hand also slips higher up her leg, moving from her knee to her thigh, fingers pressing gently into her skin. “I’m sure. What about - hobbies? Or, what do you do for work?”

“Oh,” Alexis says. “Yeah. I, um, I curate a lifestyle aesthetic. And I travel. For business and pleasure.” 

He nods slowly. “Sounds… exciting.” 

Alexis nods, too. “No two days are the same. I like that.” 

“You don’t like to be bored.”

She smiles. “Exactly.”

“My job’s not so exciting. You could even say it’s a little boring sometimes.” 

Alexis can hear the hint of a challenge in his words, the way he’s asking her to find the places they align. She’d love to just kiss him again, to show him _just_ how well they can fit together, but she knows, from what Avery said in the car and the way Mutt is looking at her now, that this is a conversation they’re expected to have. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” she says. “You work in the _wild_.” She shimmies to punctuate the word, which makes Mutt smile. “The forest, and, like, nature... that’s always changing, from one day to the next. Plants are living things.” 

He nods slowly. “That’s… a really great way to put it, Alexis.” 

She likes the way he says her name. She reaches across his body, taking the hand that he’s not resting against her thigh, tangling their fingers together. “You really like your job,” she surmises. 

“I do. I care about the place I live, the space of it, the earth. I was raised that way.”

Alexis smiles and says, softly, “I love that.”

“What about you? Did your family teach you to love travel?” 

She thinks about her eleven-year-old self, shoving clothes into Louis Vuitton suitcase, her vision blurred with tears of rage. “Mm. You could say that.” 

Mutt’s eyes search hers. “I’d love to know more about your family.” 

Alexis picks up her plastic glass, drinks the remaining wine in it, and holds it out toward Mutt with a sparkling smile. “Can I get a refill?”

  


* * *

  


The evening portion of Alexis’ date with Mutt takes place after a two-hour break, during which she’s taken to a hotel room to change and eat dinner - no one wants their mics picking up chewing sounds, despite the fact that she’s ‘meeting Mutt for dinner.’

Avery rides with her in the car again, occasionally shooting Alexis an appraising look that she doesn’t know how to interpret. 

“Listen,” they say after several minutes of thoughtful silence. “You obviously have a physical connection with Mutt. That’s great. But be _open_ to him, okay? Emotionally. Be open to the…” Avery waves their hands in a way that reminds Alexis vaguely of her brother. “ _Experience._.” 

“I’m open to the experience,” Alexis says, feeling sort of offended. “I mean, _Us Weekly_ once described me as ‘up for anything.’” 

Avery looks briefly delighted before schooling their expression into something more serious again. “Okay. Good.”

Alexis lifts her eyebrows. “I feel like you don’t…” She shimmies uncomfortably. “Totally believe me.” 

“I do,” Avery says. “I’m just saying - let yourself connect with him. I like you, Alexis. I think you can go really far this season, and I can help you do that. But you have to help me help you.” 

“Oh...kay,” Alexis says slowly. 

“Okay,” they agree determinedly as the car comes to a stop. “Great. Go get that rose.”

  


* * *

  


Alexis sips wine - red, this time - with Mutt, at a small table in a gazebo decorated with twinkling lights. A violinist appears to serenade them, and Mutt holds her hand while they listen, prompting one of the cameramen to rush around the gazebo, cord trailing behind him, to get a close-up shot. 

They applaud for the violinist, who smiles graciously at them before being herded away by the producers, and Mutt angles his body more directly toward Alexis’, their knees bumping. They’re still holding hands, and Alexis skims her fingertips across his palm and halfway up his forearm. 

“I was hoping we could continue our conversation from earlier,” he says. “I want to know more about you. Your family, your work, what’s important to you… ”

“ _Totally_ ,” Alexis says. “Me, too. What’s your family like?” 

“Uh… close,” Mutt says with a quiet chuckle. “It felt stifling, sometimes, when I was in my teens, but it’s something I’ve really come to value. My parents were only nineteen when I was born, and we’ve always just been this really solid… unit.” 

Alexis nods, biting the inside of her bottom lip. “That sounds - I mean, that’s amazing.” 

“It is, yeah. What about your family?” 

“Um. There are four of us. Me, my brother, my parents. I wouldn’t say we’re… close like your family is. My parents both have really busy careers.” 

Mutt nods encouragingly, clearly expecting her to say more. 

Alexis tosses her hair and tugs at one of her dangling earrings. “My mom’s an actress. So we got to go to movie premieres sometimes. I liked dressing up. But I - ” She’d hated the attention, as a little kid, the flashes of cameras, all the people staring at her, the way her mother hated when Alexis latched onto the skirt of one of her gowns. She looks away, out across the park they’re in, and gasps, “Is that a wedding?” 

Mutt follows her gaze to the group of people across the park, the lights in the trees, the arrangement of tables. “Oh,” he says. “Yeah. I think so.” 

“How cute!” Alexis says. 

“You like weddings?” Mutt asks. When she looks at him, there’s a little twist in the shape of his mouth that tells her he’s asking a question he thinks he’s supposed to ask. 

“Who doesn’t?” Alexis replies, smiling at him in a way she hopes conveys that she understands, and then she adds, “Let’s crash it.” 

Mutt laughs, and then seems to realize she’s serious. “What?” 

“Yeah!” Alexis says, warming even further to her own idea. “Come on. We can dance, get a drink, maybe even have some cake…” She leans toward him. “Have an _adventure_ with me, Mutt.” 

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling as he looks over his shoulder toward Verity. “Can we do that?” 

Alexis gives his arm a little shake. “Isn’t this _your_ season? _Your_ journey?” 

Verity turns toward the production crew. One of the guys shrugs and says, “They’re both mic’d. The distance shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“And filming?” 

“We can get a little closer. Zoom. It won’t be the best quality, but it’s doable.” 

Verity looks back at Mutt, her expression very clearly asking, _you sure about this?_

Mutt looks at her, then at Alexis, who nods at him. “Okay,” he says, “Let’s crash a wedding.”

  


* * *

  


They slip into the crowd on the dance floor smoothly, Alexis leading Mutt by the hand and walking confidently, which she’s learned is the key way to look like you belong somewhere. She’s pleased to see that the dress code appears to be semi-formal, so they fit right in. They dance to “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and “How Sweet It Is” and Alexis laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t look so nervous, you’ll give us away,” into Mutt’s ear. One of the women in the couple next to them smiles politely, eyes narrowed slightly as she tries to identify them, and Alexis beams back at her like they’re the best of friends. 

“Drinks,” Mutt murmurs by her ear in the middle of "Dancing Queen." 

“Excellent eye,” she says, giving his chest an approving pat, and they sidle over to a waiter circulating with flutes of champagne. 

Alexis takes a flute for them both and taps hers against his. “Cheers.”

Mutt’s arm slips around her waist. “To this crazy idea of yours.”

“To this crazy _journey_ of yours,” she volleys back playfully, and they both drink. 

“You know,” Mutt says. His breath is warm against her cheek. “I’m beginning to think this crazy journey of mine might actually work.” 

“Mutt.” Alexis turns in his hold and puts both her hands on his face. His beard is soft, like he conditions it. “I _love_ that for you.” She gives him a quick kiss. “This calls for cake.” 

“You’re full of good ideas tonight,” he says, and kisses her again. Alexis lets this kiss linger, sinking into it, and only pulls away when someone trying to get past them jostles her arm. 

At the cake table, where slices are laid out on plates with a floral design, they end up next to an elderly couple who smile at them indulgently. “Aren’t you two just a lovely match,” the woman says as Alexis hands a slice over to Mutt. “Aren’t they a lovely match, Jim?” 

The man with her nods oblingingly. “Lovely match.” 

“Well, so are the two of you!” Alexis says. She gives Mutt a little nudge, but before they can step away the woman is speaking again. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” she says, holding her hand out to Mutt. “Gladys Carlisle, and this is my husband Jim. Liv’s aunt and uncle. And you are…?” 

Mutt looks caught out, a deer-in-the-headlights expression descending over his face. He clears his throat to buy himself time. “I’m Mu - ”

“This is Matt,” Alexis interrupts, draping her arm across Mutt’s shoulders. “I’m Angelica. Groom’s side.” She smiles her best, dimpled smile at the couple. “Such a happy day, right?”

“So wonderful,” Gladys agrees. “Are there wedding bells in your future?” she asks in a knowing tone, looking between them. 

“Gladys, don’t bother them about - ”

“It’s just a question, Jim; I wasn’t booking them a venue - ”

Alexis pokes Mutt repeatedly in the ribs. “Go, go, go,” she whispers, and they hurry away. 

The cake is good - chocolate almond - and they finish their slices at a deserted table. The bride and groom pass by at one point, and Alexis hops up to hug the bride and cry, “ _So_ happy for you, babe!” before shooing them on their way. 

She takes her seat again to find Mutt looking at her with a mixture of amusement and something close to fondness. He extends her hand to her. “May I have this dance, Angelica?” 

She grins. “I’d be honoured, Matt.” 

The band is playing “At Last.” At the very edge of her vision, Alexis sees one of the sound guys sprinting across the park with a boom mic. Mutt sets his hand on her hip as she rests her hand against his shoulder, and as they dance, he leans in so that his forehead touches hers. 

“You’re amazing,” he says in a soft, gruff voice, like he’s trying to avoid being heard by his mic. 

“You too,” she whispers back, feeling a quiet thrill at this moment that might not be captured clearly on film, that might not even be heard. 

He gives her a kiss, and asks, “Alexis, will you accept the rose I stupidly left back at the gazebo?” 

She giggles and kisses him again. “Of _course_ I will,” she says, and he spins her clumsily beneath his arm before pulling her in close once more.

  


* * *

  


Shan Shan  
  
hey!! how are my two favorite roomies-turned-girlfriends doing? 😇  
  
We're good!   
  
HEY HOTTIE  
  
Sorry, that was Alexis  
  
I know 😆  
  
I miss you guys so much!!  
  
We miss you too!  
  
FaceTime date soon? Get the gang back together?  
  
YES  
  
BTW did you hear Rachel's dating someone?  
  
NO WHO IS IT  
  
IT'S ALEXIS AGAIN  
  
you know that its super obvious who's texting me between the two of you?  
  
you don't have to say it's you Alexis  
  
I think she just likes saying it's her. 😉  
  
She's offended you didn't just use our group chat, anyway  
  
For the gossip.  
  
oh it's back on!! I'll text you on the next commercial but you won't believe who 🤪  
  
SHANNON I DON'T LIKE CLIFFHANGERS  
  


David Rose  
  
Hey, it's David. Alexis gave me your #. This upcoming weekend won't work for me, but the next weekend will.   
  
What's your address?  
  
[ Share Contact: Twyla Sands ]  
  
Hi David! Here you go! And next weekend sounds great. I'll get the guest room ready!  
  
Thanks. See you then.   
  
See you!  
  


Rach  
  
I found this for you 🍹  
  
https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1016358-margarita  
  
Oh! Yes, I'll have to check this out  
  
Wow, this doesn't use nearly as many limes as I thought  
  
And there isn't any grapefruit  
  
yes 😘  
  
❤️ you!  
  
❤️ you!  
  
BTW who are you dating?  
  


  


* * *

  


When Alexis comes home from her one-on-one, Twyla's pouring out margaritas for Rachel and Nicole at the edge of the mansion's pool. A few stars are twinkling overhead in the night sky, a far cry from the multitude she's used to seeing above Schitt's Creek, and women's laughter fills the air. The anticipatory tension of the upcoming rose ceremony is settling into all of them, she guesses, and nearly all of the contestants are staying up late tonight. Some of them won't be around after the next evening, after all.

"This is… wow," Rachel says, tasting her margarita as she leans against the pool wall."I don't think I've ever had one that tastes like this."

"Thanks!" Admittedly, Twyla isn't _entirely_ sure what a margarita's supposed to taste like, but Rachel and Nicole are drinking it anyway, so she does, too. "Is it supposed to be this… sour?"

Nicole glances over at Rachel, considering this, but then the sound of Alexis' heels and then Alexis herself interrupts: "Hey, bitches, I'm back!" She wrinkles her nose at the water along the edge of the pool, then gestures towards Rachel's towel. "Mind if I…." Alexis picks it up, spreading it out to give herself somewhere to sit, then shimmies her shoulders as she gathers their attention. "A little night time pool action? Love that for you."

Twyla shrugs one shoulder, aiming for nonchalance, watching Alexis over the rim of her margarita glass as she takes a sip. "It was too loud inside," she says with a smile; through the window, they can see a raucous house party in full swing. 

"But how was your _date_?" Nicole interjects, and Rachel giggles. "I still can't believe you got the first one-on-one!"

Alexis runs a hand through her hair, a little self-satisfied smile on her face, then leans in conspiratorially to tell a story of horseback riding and wedding crashing, and her audience listens raptly, oohing and aahing in all the right places. Nicole asks for details about how Mutt kisses, Rachel asks about the cake, and Twyla tries to tamp down the whirlwind of confusing, conflicting emotions so she can provide enough supportive input. 

By the time Alexis is done, enough time has passed for a chill to settle in the air. "I'm getting all wrinkly," Nicole complains, examining her fingertips before she hefts the empty pitcher. " _And_ we're out of margs."

"I can make more," Twyla offers, but Rachel shakes her head.

"Looks like they just opened a new bottle of champagne!" Rachel hefts herself out of the pool, careful to not drip onto Alexis, and gestures for Nicole and Twyla to follow suit. "Come on!"

Twyla flattens her palms on the side of the pool wall, lifting herself out. Nicole and Rachel are already ahead of them, carrying the plastic pitcher and glassware, and then it's just her and Alexis outside. "I think I'm okay without another round," she tells Alexis candidly, stepping over to retrieve her towel. "I'm not really a big drinker."

"Probably for the best," Alexis says. She smoothes her hand over her dress as she stands up, pursing her lips as she finds a stubborn wrinkle, then smiles as their eyes meet again. "Not that I, like, don't know how to party, you know?"

Twyla nods, unsure; she's overheard some of the other girls talking about the reality show Alexis headlined, but she hasn't watched any of it. "You do?"

"Oh, totally." Alexis pauses, letting the music and conversation from the makeshift rager settle around them as she watches Twyla towel off, before her face turns a bit wry. "But sometimes I'm just not in the mood, I guess." 

"I get that." Twyla wrings her hair out, then wraps the towel around her waist, covering up her green bathing suit, as they start to walk towards the mansion. "My third cousin twice removed once broke his leg at a party. It wasn't even like drinking had been involved, 'cause he was only eleven at the time. But that's kind of put me off big celebrations ever since."

By unspoken agreement, they pivot toward a side entrance of the house, avoiding the bulk of the party, and Alexis pushes the door open for her. "I get that," she echoes as Twyla moves past her. "Some parties are just… I mean, once you see a clown vomit out of a party bus on the Autobahn, that's enough." 

Twyla turns, tilting her head up to meet Alexis' eyes; Alexis is still in her heels, towering over Twyla in her bare feet, and Twyla takes a deep breath. She's trying valiantly to focus on her story, how cold she is in just her towel and damp bathing suit, anything else but how Alexis' heels bring her closer to Mutt's height than her own. 

" _Totally_ ," she says, imitating the way the word rolls off Alexis' tongue, and grins as Alexis playfully scrunches up her nose.

  


* * *

  


Despite how many women have to live in the mansion in these early days, there aren't enough bedrooms for all of them, let alone bathrooms. By the time Twyla's finished rinsing off the pool chlorine, stepping out of the shower in a fresh towel, Alexis is still poking at her forehead with some kind of eyedropper mechanism in front of the mirror.

"You have great skin, by the way." Alexis quirks an eyebrow in her direction, in the mirror, as Twyla starts to put on the face lotion she brought from home. "What do you use?"

"This," Twyla says with a shrug, looking down at the bottle. She's already witnessed Alexis' elaborate routine, and been subjected to an admittedly-luxurious face mask earlier that day, but the question still manages to surprise her. "Maybe sometimes a spot cream. Why?"

Alexis turns, studying Twyla's face with an expert eye. "You look really good. You always do." She leans in, swiping lightly at Twyla's cheek, before she holds up an eyelash on her fingertip and her expression grows mischievous. "Make a wish, babe."

Twyla lifts her eyebrows, fighting to rein in a bemused smile, then gently blows the eyelash away. "Thanks, Alexis."

"No biggie!" Alexis returns her attention back to the mirror, staring intently into her own eyes as her hands busy themselves with putting the eyedropper away and reaching for a little tube. 

The party's still going strong in the other wing, and Twyla's pretty sure their roommates are in the thick of it. There's still a cameraman with the two of them, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, but she's sure the majority of the crew are in the kitchen and living room. 

"You sure you're good with just chilling?" Alexis asks after a moment, once she's patted down some kind of lotion underneath her eyes.

Twyla nods, biting briefly at her bottom lip. It's impossible for her to not feel entirely drab next to Alexis, even if she's shed all of her glittery makeup and combed her hair out. "I'm good here. But don't let me keep you."

Alexis winks at her in the mirror as she puts away her last bottle. "I wouldn't be kept if I didn't want to be, Twy."

  


* * *

  


They settle into the reading room after Twyla's producer – Zoe, who replaced Avery after just a few days, for whatever reason – has lit the fireplace and set an assortment of chocolates on the coffee table. A cameraman's posted in the door, their producers scurry out of the way, and the girls move towards their places.

"Yummy," Alexis says, reaching for a truffle of indeterminate flavouring, and Twyla follows suit before she takes a seat on the couch, turning to lean against its armrest and stretching her legs towards Alexis. It's cozy with just the two of them, a little bit of peace and quiet, and Twyla lets out a sigh she hadn't realized she needed to release.

Alexis swings her long legs up, running a hand through her hair as she studies Twyla. "Everything okay, babe? You seem very… deep in thought."

"I'm okay." It's technically not a lie; Twyla's in California on the adventure of a lifetime, dating a gorgeous man and making at least twelve new best friends. But it's the others who are bothering her, cliquing up and gossiping with big smiles and pointed looks. "It's just, you know." She raises her eyebrows at Alexis. "It feels a little like high school all over again." 

"I wouldn't really know," Alexis says. She shifts a little, tangling one of her legs between Twyla's."At least, like, about high school. But I know how to wrangle a bitch." 

Twyla can't help but laugh; the sound of it seems to truly delight Alexis, and Twyla tries to push away the little flicker of pride she feels at making Alexis smile. "I'll keep that in mind, then. Just in case."

"Good." Alexis is quiet for a moment, watching her, before she adds, "Did something happen with some of the girls while I was gone?" 

"I guess it's more like what didn't happen." Twyla shrugs, shaking her head. "I think there are a few people who aren't thrilled about me getting the first impression rose, and they're kind of… it feels like they're ignoring me, I guess, which seems stupid when I say it out loud, but it's almost worse than them just being upfront about it." 

She takes a deep breath, rolling her eyes briefly at herself. "It doesn't matter, though. He didn't even choose me for any of the dates this week, so I'm not sure how interested he truly is." 

"Twyla," Alexis says warningly, tapping her foot against Twyla's leg. "What did I tell you about us believing in our mutual hotness and worthiness of being here?"

"I know, I know." Twyla reaches for another chocolate, stalling a little, before she adds, "I've just never been the girl who gets that kind of attention. I've never been…" She can't find the words, so she settles for gesturing to herself, then to Alexis. 

"And what does that mean?" Alexis seems to be radiating more concern than offense, though, so Twyla decides to try to explain herself a little more.

"I just mean…" Twyla looks up at Alexis, their eyes meeting again, and she swallows. She's spent a week pulling back on her attraction, but moments like this trip her up. "It's hard not to look at you," she says finally. "Mutt's captivated by you, and the girls who don't know you are either jealous of you, or want to be you." 

Alexis' gaze is steady on hers. There's a flicker of something in her eyes, something Twyla can't read, and her mouth tightens for a moment before she speaks. "And what do _you_ want from me, Twy?"

"I want to be your friend." It's the truth, albeit an incomplete one, and she reaches out to place her hand on Alexis' ankle. Whatever additional feelings she has for Alexis, she's sure she can manage them in addition to what she feels for Mutt. "I want to get to know you better."

"I want to get to know you, too." Alexis cracks a brief smile, and Twyla can't help but respond with one of her own. "And help you remember that you deserve to be here, and that Mutt's an idiot if he lets you get away. And then once we're clear on all of that, _maybe_ I'll yell at all of the girls who are making you feel icky." 

"Maybe," Twyla says, her smile broadening despite herself. "But okay. Sure. What do you want to know about me?"

Alexis leans her head against her hand. "Tell me more about where you're from. And, like, what brought you here."

They've already made the Ontario connection, even if their hometowns are worlds apart, so Twyla starts beyond the basics. "You know we're sort of neighbours, in the loosest definition of the word," she says, and Alexis nods. "It's super small, the town where I'm from. And I feel like people always know my business before I do. But I kind of… While it's nice, in a way, feeling like I'm part of a tight-knit community, it's also all I've known. So I think that's part of why I ended up applying for this. Beyond wanting to meet Mutt, of course." 

"You wanted to see something else," Alexis supplies, hazarding a guess. "Take yourself out of your comfort zone, a bit?"

"Yeah, exactly." Twyla tilts her head, considering her words and the fact that one day, Jocelyn and the rest of Schitt's Creek may very well be hearing this conversation, before she says aloud what's been rattling in her brain for a while: "I wanted to see what was beyond my home before I decided whether I wanted to stay or leave." 

Despite her relaxed posture, every bit of Alexis' energy is aimed on Twyla, like every word and action matters to her. It's equal parts overwhelming and flattering; the more time she spends with Alexis, the easier it becomes for Twyla to almost believe that she's worthy of the attention. 

"For what it's worth, Twy? I'm glad you came here." Alexis nudges Twyla's thigh with her foot again, and puts on an innocent smile when Twyla has to briefly wrap her hand around Alexis' foot to stop her from digging into a ticklish spot. "And not just, like, 'cause we got to meet, but for what it means for you to be here. I think travel is, like…" Alexis gestures with a wrist, punctuating her points. "I mean, I sort of started for a similar reason to you, I guess?" 

"You did?" Twyla leans in, lifting up off of the back of the couch. She hasn't got anywhere near the experience Alexis has, but it's thrilling to know that Alexis gets it. 

"Yeah, totally. Like, at first it was just me wanting to get out, see the world, all that stuff." Alexis is sitting up a little straighter, too, her gestures growing a little more animated. "But I think it's hard to, like, know how you want to see the world around you or where you want to call your home if you don't actually know it? Like, every time I go somewhere new, I get a new perspective on things and whether or not I fit into them. So I guess that's part of why I love it so much. I get to know myself, like, in the unfamiliar."

Twyla nods intently, considering all of this as she holds up everything Alexis has just said and compares it to the mental image of herself that she keeps in her mind's eye. She's seeking that same kind of clarity, too. "And what's the other part?" 

"The other part is that I'm _maybe_ a little bit of an adrenaline junkie." Alexis grins at her, unadulterated joy written all over her features, and Twyla can't help but smile. "Something about, like, the risk? Or the newness, since it doesn't just have to be, like, swimming with sharks or dangling from a ropes course on a mountain ledge, you know?"

Twyla shakes her head with a laugh; she doesn't know at all. 

"I guess I get that same kind of kick from discovering somewhere I've never been. Either way, it just…" Alexis pauses, grasping for the right word, before she settles for: "It makes me feel _alive_." 

"That's what I want, too," Twyla says, before she even realizes the words are coming out of her mouth. Her chest is tight, her face flushed for some reason; she hadn't realized it was possible to get this excited over a shared understanding. "I love where I'm from, I love the people who raised me, and I love making people happy. I love seeing people happy. But I want…" 

Twyla's hand tightens on Alexis' ankle, her thumb tracing over her soft skin, as she speaks her half-formed realizations aloud and makes her intentions known. "I want something for _me_ , something that's all mine." 

Alexis lifts herself up, shifting to scoot closer to Twyla. She lands in the middle of the couch, her legs nearly in Twyla's lap and her eyes big and bright. "When we're done with this, Twy," Alexis says solemnly, etching out a promise she wants them to keep, "I'm going to take you places. Wherever you want to go, whatever you think you're into, like, beaches or deserts or cities or mountains – I want to be there with you." 

"Okay," Twyla says, before she can second-guess herself, and she bites her lip to try and rein in a smile. 

"Is that a 'good' okay?" Alexis asks teasingly, her grin broadening as her eyes study Twyla's face. "Or a 'bad' okay?" 

"It's a 'yes, I'm in' okay." For once, there isn't room in Twyla's mind to question whether Alexis truly means it, or to downplay whether she's worth such an offer. She wants the version of herself that she can hear in Alexis' words, half-shaped and brimming with potential. 

"Yay!" Alexis reaches for Twyla's hands, squeezing briefly in her excitement, before she twists to retrieve two more chocolates from the coffee table. 

"Here's to us, babe," Alexis declares, handing Twyla one of the chocolates, and they tap them together in a mock-toast. "To you and me, and our future adventures together around the world."

"You and me," Twyla echoes, savouring the sound of it, and takes a bite.

  


* * *

  


The next day, when it's time to start prepping for the cocktail party and rose ceremony, half of the mansion is still fighting off a hangover. Shannon keeps chugging water, gesturing for Rachel to refill her glass almost as soon as she sets it down, and Alexis smiles at Twyla, a secret just for the two of them, as they watch.

Earlier that morning, they'd hung up their evening dresses off of the corner of their bunk bed to let them air out. Now that the hour's approaching, Twyla runs a handheld steamer over both of them while Alexis supervises, stretching the fabric in all the right places so it'll drape exactly as she wants it. 

"Anyone else nervous?" Rachel asks over the music playing in the background. "Or, let me rephrase: anyone else who doesn't already have a rose?"

"You guys are all gonna go through," Alexis says confidently. The rose in question is sitting in a small vase on their nightstand, but she keeps her focus on the dresses instead. "I know it."

"I hope so." Regret is written all over Shannon's face as she sighs, turning her head to study the dress and heels she'd intended to wear. "I'm never doing last night again."

"I can remind you of that next time, if you want," Twyla offers. She turns Alexis' dress over, running the steamer over the front of it once more, then gestures for Alexis to take it off of the hanger. "If you really mean it."

"Of course I do," Shannon says. Rachel nods next to her. 

"Okay." Twyla aims the steamer at her own dress, draping the blue fabric as Alexis showed her, then casts a sympathetic glance in Shannon's direction. It's easier, safer, to pay attention to her other roommates than to allow her attention to be caught by the telltale sounds of Alexis stripping off her clothing to get into her dress. "Then I will."

She shuts the steamer off, then runs her fingertips over the satin. Twyla had held a fundraiser for her _Bachelor_ wardrobe, and she'd been able to purchase a few dresses that were way out of her financial comfort zone with the town's help. She tries to imbue the dress with her hopes and dreams as she studies it, willing her adventure to not come to an end tonight, before she eases it off the hanger.

Her dress is a little more conservative than her roommates' choices: it hits right above her knee, and she knows contestants don't often choose long sleeves for these kinds of events. But the neckline plunges into a deep V, ending just above the center of her breasts, and she likes the way she feels in it. It isn't necessarily _her_ , but it's _The Bachelor_. She supposes that now's the perfect time for her to live out a fantasy. 

Alexis' dress is a stark contrast to her own. The metallic, snakeskin silk hugs her body in a way that seems, frankly, indecent; the expanse of leg on display makes it hard for Twyla to breathe. She can't fathom how Alexis plans to move in a dress like that. 

"Wow," Rachel says, once Alexis has finished smoothing the dress over her curves. "You look… wow."

"Aww, thanks, babe." Alexis looks Rachel up and down, her expression approving, then adds, "And you look so good, too!" 

Twyla can't help but smile as she watches Rachel's expression shift from envious to flattered. She's rapidly learning that even if Alexis can bullshit with the best of them or deliver a pointed remark with mock-sincerity, none of it detracts from how enthusiastically Alexis wants to uplift her friends. 

"Alexis," she says, moving closer. Twyla had been nervous to do this when they'd first met, when she'd still been starstruck by Alexis, but now Alexis is her friend. A really beautiful friend, yes, but her friend nonetheless. "Want me to do your zip?"

"Totally." Alexis turns around, pulling her hair out of the way, and meets Twyla's gaze over her shoulder. "By the way, Twy? You look good, too. Just in case you didn't know."

  


* * *

  


Twyla reluctantly accepts the paper cup of coffee that her producer hands to her, then takes a couple of small sips. The rose ceremony is scheduled to take place past midnight again, and she's once again wrung out from hours in too-high heels, small talk and pleasantries with the women, and the yearning for time with Mutt. The ceremony room isn't even fully set up yet at this point. 

She allows herself a little time to fade into the background of the living room, observing everyone else mill around and talk. Mutt's somewhere else with Chris Harrison, and it's always fascinating to watch how some of the women change whenever he's around. 

Most of them put on a show, posturing for him like fluffed-up birds looking for a mate, but there are a few who seemed to shrink into themselves that evening. Twyla doesn't know it for sure, but she'd put money on them having fallen victim to the same group of girls who tried to ice Twyla out.

Twyla takes another sip of her coffee, trying to go slow lest she end up unable to sleep once the ceremony's finally wrapped, and her gaze alights on Alexis, casually insouciant on an oversized armchair as she talks to Tennessee. Alexis glances over at her, their eyes meeting across the room, and smiles, warm and slow, before her attention turns back to Tennessee and Twyla's left wondering if the heat spreading through her is due to the coffee or to something else.

It's an odd thing, her simultaneous attraction to Alexis and Mutt. She wants Mutt on a visceral level, something she feels deeply, and she loves the way his eyes crinkle at the edges whenever he smiles at her. He's always so sweet and thoughtful, listening to her with a quiet, rapt attention that makes her blush, and he holds her hands in each of his own as he answers her questions. Whenever they're alone together, stealing quiet moments away from the rest of the group, there's a tugging in her heart that she can't ignore. 

She wouldn't be here still if she didn't see the potential for him to become her future husband. And if things work out between them, if he chooses her at the end, well. Mutt would be able to understand how her feelings are being tugged in two directions. He's currently dating twenty-two women all at the same time, after all.

This one-sided thing between her and Alexis must be due to proximity, she supposes, and tells herself that settles it. She spends more time with Alexis than with Mutt, so of course she knows her better. Of course she's had more opportunities to watch the way Alexis' eyes light up when she's excited, to study the way she moves through a room, to memorize her mannerisms and understand how the tiniest little shift in her expression can mean so much. It's purely circumstantial, an inconvenient attraction that Twyla's made her peace with. Besides: Alexis is straight, so whatever Twyla feels about her will always have to remain a hypothetical. 

She's sure she can be okay with that.

But then they're finally filing into the rose ceremony set, and she's standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Alexis, both of them watching a man they're both dating as he picks up rose after rose, calling out women's names in his quiet, steady voice. Alexis is holding her one-on-one rose in her hands, and she turns to whisper in Twyla's ear: "Don't worry, babe, you got this." 

Mutt announces name after name, though, and the pile of roses is dwindling down. Twyla spent the morning centering herself, doing all of her mindfulness tricks and talking a few of the girls into an extra-long yoga session, and she'd thought she'd come to the cocktail party with a little more peace. Her nerves are fraying now, though, as Mutt picks up the last remaining rose and Chris Harrison side-steps in to remind the girls that it's the final rose – as though five roseless women weren't already aware.

"Lex," Twyla whispers, risking a sideways glance at her. Alexis' eyes are narrowed, a muscle in her jaw ticking, and she looks back over at Twyla instead of keeping her full attention on Mutt, like they've been instructed to. "If I go home this week –"

"Shut up," Alexis hisses back, and she lets go of the rose with one hand and finds Twyla's, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight. "You're not going home. I won't let you."

Twyla takes a deep breath, then another, but it's no use. There are several cameramen behind Mutt, angling their lenses throughout the small crowd of women, and one seems to be focusing right on her. She can only imagine how fraught her expression must be. "It's not up to you," she whispers, miserably. 

The moment is stretching on, amping up the drama for their eventual television viewers. Mutt holds the final rose in front of his chest, looking pained, before he eventually says: "Twyla."

"Oh," she says, to no one in particular, and Alexis squeezes her hand once more before she lets go. Twyla can't help but laugh, relief flooding through her, and once the girls in front of her have stepped aside, she moves over toward Mutt. He's smiling down at her, his eyes warm, and he holds the rose out to her like it's precious cargo. "Twyla, will you accept this rose?"

Twyla looks up at him, beaming as his smile broadens for her, and her mind repeats a mantra she'd developed earlier that day: _Alexis is your friend. You're here for Mutt. Mutt chose you for his first impression rose. You're here for him._

"Of course I will," she says, holding on tight as he kisses her cheek and pulls her into a hug.

 _Alexis is your friend_ , she tells herself again, once she's back at Alexis' side and Alexis is turning her head, her breath hot on Twyla's ear as she says, her voice cutting through the bustle of four women's exits, "Told you, babe! Now I get at least one more week with you."

Twyla bites her lip, trying to pull back on a smile. People are leaving the mansion, and it's supposed to be a sad moment. But Alexis is tapping her rose against Twyla's, her eyes a tiny bit mischievous as they both do their level best to keep a straight face, and Twyla's too distracted to say her immediate goodbyes to the departing women.

"One more week," she agrees, giving Alexis one last glance before she steps down through the risers toward Hannah, who looks absolutely miserable. 

"Add me on Insta," Hannah says through her tears, wrapping her arms around Twyla. "And good luck. Mutt really likes you."

"I'll keep in touch," Twyla assures her as she returns the embrace, meaning it wholeheartedly. "I'm so glad we met."

She'd applied for _The Bachelor_ to find love, but she hadn't realized she'd feel so much for the women she'd meet along the way, too. Twyla does the rounds, promising life-long friendships to Michelle, Angelique, and Sarah W., before the rose ceremony officially ends and she's back at Alexis' side. 

"I'm so over these shoes," Alexis says once the cameras aren't pointing at them anymore, placing a hand on Twyla's shoulder and bending down to slip off her heels. Her palm is warm, even through the satin of Twyla's dress, and her thumb presses against the ridge of Twyla's collarbone as she steps down, bare feet on the tile, and holds her shoes in the hand that's carrying her rose. 

They're eye-to-eye now, thanks to Twyla's own heels, and Alexis grins at her, skimming her hand down Twyla's shoulder and onto her upper arm before she lets go. "I'm fucking exhausted," she says. "Come on, babe, let's go to bed."

 _Alexis is your friend_ , Twyla reminds herself, and lets Alexis take her by the hand as they head towards their room.

  


* * *

  


_**/r/TheBachelor: my bf’s a boom operator on the show and…** _

_he HATES alexis rose. he had to jump thru a bush (literally!!!!) for this bitch! you would think after being on her own stupid reality show that she’d have some respect? is it so hard to stay on your own fancy date that other people put together for you? how spoiled do you have to be!! anyway AMA_

_… do you know who wins?? msg me please please please!..._

_.... lol i know rite? she’s trying to make it the alexis rose show. newsflash they cancelled that…_

_...How rude to crash that wedding! And eat their cake! I went to 15 different cake tastings before my wedding. It was really important to me and I’d be so upset if someone did something like this…_

_... honestly, I think it was nice to see a real, unscripted moment on this show for once. and Mutt seemed happy! have we ever seen him smile that much?..._

__

  


* * *

  


Heather  
  
Friendly reminder that you’re not your edit. ❤️  
  


  


* * *

  


There’s no impulsive sex right by the front door after the watch party for the season’s second episode. They hang up their coats and hats and scarves, Alexis lines her boots up next to Twyla’s, and they drift upstairs together, Alexis right behind Twyla, close enough to grab her hand briefly. 

Schitt’s Creek’s residents had come out in full force once again, eager to support Twyla and to witness her moment in the spotlight, and it had all been a bit less nerve-wracking, now that Alexis and Twyla sort of both knew what to expect, but it the weirdness of it all was impossible to avoid. Having Twyla’s cheek resting easily and trustingly against her shoulder while Alexis watched herself lock lips with Mutt was just fundamentally bizarre. 

The silence between them as they get ready for bed, brushing their teeth and cleansing their faces, is comfortable, companionable - save for the slightest thread of tension, but Alexis resolves not to tug on it until they both have adequately moisturized skin. 

In the bedroom, Alexis undoes the side-zip on her dress and lets it drop from around her body down onto the floor, stepping out of the puddle of fabric as she opens one of the dresser drawers. 

“Lex,” Twyla says, half-chiding, half-fond. She’s already out of her jeans and adorable wool sweater, wearing just her bra and panties and holding Alexis’ dress, scooped up from the floor. 

“Twy,” Alexis returns in the same tone, but she smiles apologetically and takes the dress from Twyla, sliding it onto a hanger and placing it neatly into the closet, which has been stuffed full ever since she arrived in Schitt’s Creek. She returns to the dresser and pulls out two of Twyla’s lazing-around tees. Before she hands one over to her girlfriend, she gently sweeps one of Twyla’s bra straps down, off her shoulder, and bends her head to kiss the starburst of freckles on her skin. 

Twyla sighs softly. One of her hands is clutching the t-shirt, and the other rises to rest against the side of Alexis’ rib cage. 

“What’s up, baby?” Alexis murmurs, nuzzling her face into Twyla’s neck. She unclasps Twyla’s bra, eases the straps down Twyla’s arms, and then puts a bit of space between them so that Twyla can pull the t-shirt on over her head. When Twyla’s head pokes through the neck of it, her hair frizzing a little, she lifts an eyebrow at Alexis in a way that clearly means, _you too_. 

Alexis pulls on her t-shirt - the fading print on it reads _SC High Volleyball_ \- and then all of a sudden Twyla’s right in her space again, up on her tiptoes to kiss Alexis, one of her hands in a tight grip on Alexis’ shoulder. 

Alexis’ hands lift to cup Twyla’s cheeks, but she’s barely made contact when Twyla breaks the kiss, dropping back onto her heels and blowing out her breath before she steps away and starts tossing throw pillows off the bed. 

There’s an instant during which Alexis just blinks at the empty space in front of her, but then she moves to what’s quickly become ‘her’ side of the bed and starts assisting with the throw pillow exodus. 

“Twy?” she asks as they peel back the comforter, the thick blanket, and the sheets, layers of bedding for northern Ontario’s winter. 

“I thought I was - ” Twyla drops down onto the bed, looking a little defeated. The look she gives Alexis is helpless, and while the scrubbed-clean pink of her face has faded away, there are two fresh spots of red high cheeks. “I don’t know. I thought I was keeping my cool.” 

Alexis frowns, sitting down on the mattress and sticking her feet beneath the sheets. She wants to crowd in close to Twyla, to hold her, but she resists the temptation. “When? At the bar? Did something happen?”

“No.” Twyla ducks her head, pushes her hair nervously back behind her ear. “On… the show. At the mansion. With you.” 

Alexis can feel her mouth making a weird, confused shape. “What do you mean?” 

Twyla settles in, crossed-legged, and tugs the blankets over her lap. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah.” Alexis stretches out on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. 

“Lex.” Twyla shakes her head. “You watched what I watched. I’m… god, I’m walking around looking at you with giant hearts in my eyes, and you’re dancing to _Etta James_ with Mutt.” 

“Babe. We both went on dates with him. Lots of dates. And you know Mutt’s not the person I fell in love with.” 

Twyla presses her lips together so hard they go white for a second. “I love you, too. And I was crushing on you. And it’s so _obvious_ , I - I’m… embarrassed, I guess. Because I was… feeling things for you, and you had no idea.” 

“Twy,” Alexis sighs with a little tsk of her tongue. She lays her hand against Twyla’s knee beneath the blankets. “You _don’t_ need to be embarrassed.” When Twyla only manages a small shrug in response, she continues, “Like - okay, yes. I made out with Mutt, and I danced with Mutt, but…” She takes a moment to try and gather her thoughts. “You know, basically every minute I was alone with Avery that day, they were telling me how important it was to open up to the _experience_ , and to Mutt, and to let him know me. It was obviously important. But I… I picked crashing that wedding with Mutt, and dancing to Etta James, because I…” She trails off and bites her lip. “Because I wasn’t ready,” she finishes, honestly. 

“It’s hard,” Twyla says, like she’s the one trying to make Alexis feel better, like it’s not the other way around. “With all the cameras…” 

“No.” Alexis shakes her head against the pillow, and slides her hand up along Twyla’s thigh until she finds Twyla’s hand. She tangles their fingers together loosely. “It wasn’t the cameras. I’m kind of used to cameras. It was me not being ready… and, specifically, me not being ready with Mutt.” 

Twyla meets her gaze, eyes so green and so worried. A little lump lodges in Alexis’ throat at how much she loves her. 

“Maybe you were a cute little heart-eyes emoji, babe,” she says. “But you’re describing it like it was one-sided, and it wasn’t. I wanted to hang out with you. I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted to cheer you up _so_ badly, after that second group date got announced. And I don’t know if you totally missed this part of the episode because you were, like, really enraptured with how good my lashes were looking that night, but when I got around to opening up to the experience? It was with _you_.” 

“Alexis,” Twyla murmurs, doubtfully, like she thinks Alexis is just placating her. 

“I love you, Twyla,” she says. “You were who I went all-in with. You were… who the spark was with, from the beginning. And I’m so glad. _So_ fucking glad, babe.” She tugs at Twyla’s hand. “C’mere.”

Soft, sweet smile on her lips, Twyla slides down so that she’s lying next to Alexis, and their mouths meet in a kiss. Alexis wraps her arm securely around Twyla’s waist, holding her close, feeling the ever-present joy of knowing Twyla is _hers_. 

“Love you too,” Twyla says between kisses. 

“Well, duh,” Alexis teases. “Those heart-eyes - ”

Twyla jams her knee against Alexis’ thigh, grinning reluctantly. “Stop.” 

“Hey, Siri,” Alexis calls. “Play ‘At Last.’” 

“Lex,” Twyla huffs. She tries to say, “Siri, no,” but her words are muffled into Alexis’ mouth, and the opening strains of the song fill the room as Alexis presses Twyla back into the mattress.


	3. Week Three

_**/r/TheBachelor – Mutt 🐶 – IS TWYLA SANDS THE QUEER REPRESENTATION WE LOVE TO SEE????** _

_okay so as so many people have said, this bitch never put anything all that interesting on her instagram before she announced she was joining the cast. i have read through all of the captions of flowers and trees and i think that she just really likes flowers and trees? but this makes it even more interesting when she DID post someone to her instagram!!_

_there's a small handful of pics of her with a few people at what looks like that cafe where she works (the one from her intro package) but theres this one chick that keeps showing up. see below_

_and that isn't the only photo of them together_

_yes i know what you're gonna say, this doesn't necessarily mean anything but then if you look at photos with this other lady who was in twyla's intro package…._

_this lady's instagram account is tagged in all the pics. i'm not gonna post it here since obviously that isn't allowed as per CoC and i'm not gonna break the rules!! (but it's super easy to find) anyway, if you go to HER instagram account there's like 50 pictures of twyla with this woman who i am pretty sure was twyla's GIRLFRIEND_

_i'm not going to post her name or her account or any of that blonde lady's captions about the two of them (since again i'm following CoC!!) but all i'm saying is that WOW ABC cast someone who is actually publicly openly queer on this show for the main show!!! (yes alexa is bi and so is demi but neither were like posting pix of women before the show unless im wrong? lmk if i am!)_

_and yes this gives SO MUCH CREDENCE to the people who say that twyla and alexis do actually get together since obviously if twyla is queer that makes it much more likely?? jury's still out on whether alexis is queer though, she was so hetero last week. i guess we'll see what happens this week!!_

  


* * *

  


As always, these days, Ivan's waiting outside Twyla's house when it's time for her to open at work. She's been lucky so far: somehow, the paparazzi have been kept in check, staying along the outskirts of town, and she hasn't technically _needed_ the protection of a bodyguard yet, but she and Zoe aren't interested in skipping precautions. 

She hands him a travel mug of coffee in exchange for one of his cinnamon rolls, tugs her hood up over her head, sunglasses on and her face partially covered by the bulk of her jacket, and they set out for the short walk downtown. It's snowing a little, and for a moment she relishes January's chill as it wakes her up. 

"It's a nice day out." She tilts her head back and up, smiling at Ivan, and he stumbles on the sidewalk, sloshing some of his coffee. 

"I'm okay," he says quickly, before she can even ask. He wipes his hand off on his coat, smiling weakly at her, and Twyla casts a worried look in his direction, but he shrugs and points up ahead.

There's a line of black cars across town, and two crowds – the reporters, she guesses anxiously, and the townspeople – seem to be facing off. No one's yet crossed the divide between the two groups, escalating the stand-off, but guilt twists Twyla's stomach nonetheless.

"Why don't we take the back route?" she suggests, and Ivan huffs a noise of agreement. They turn, deviating from the main path, and even though Ivan tries to make small talk, she can't get her mind off of how her life has changed.

  


* * *

  


The bell dings, but Twyla's back is to the door. "Welcome in," she says anyway, reflexively, and her customer service smile shifts into something a little more genuine when she spins around to find Stevie. "Oh! Hey, Stevie!"

"Hey, Twyla." Stevie's hands are in the pockets of her coat, and there's still some snow in her hair. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, then takes a seat at the counter.

Twyla turns, grabbing a mug and pouring coffee – black, no room, just like always – for her friend. "It's good to see you." She places the mug on the counter, and Stevie mutters a _thanks_ before she picks it up and takes a sip. 

Stevie doesn't usually come in this early, and the motel has coffee, too, so Twyla tilts her head, waiting. But Stevie's silent, warming her hands on the mug, so Twyla finally adds, "What's up?"

Stevie shrugs one shoulder. Their eyes meet, and for a second they're kids again, sitting next to each other on the school bus, Stevie listening with overwhelmed eyes as Twyla explained how she learned the word _dismemberment_ from her uncle. 

"Just would've been nice," she says finally. "To know from you directly that you were thinking about leaving town instead of finding out about it on _television._ "

Twyla bites her lip, her palm curving around her own mug. Jocelyn had been a little stiff around her last night, after the episode had aired, but Stevie had played it off as nothing. She should've known something had been up, but she'd been too wrapped up in her second-hand embarrassment – and her blossoming relationship with Alexis – to check in with her best friend.

"I would've said something if I really was going to," Twyla says after a moment, guilt laced into every word as she watches Stevie's reaction. "I… that was just, you know. I was thinking aloud. You talk about leaving all the time."

"Yeah, but I talk about leaving _to_ you." Stevie raises her eyebrows. "You see the difference there?"

"I'm sorry." It's too hard to look at Stevie right now, so Twyla drops her gaze down to the counter. "I should've – you're right. I should've said something." 

"Yeah," Stevie says again. There's no real heat or edge to her words, but each word weighs heavily on Twyla's shoulders nonetheless. "Although I don't know when you would've, since it's been a while since we've hung out with just you and me." 

"Stevie – I'm sorry." Twyla looks up at Stevie again, willing herself to face her head on, and adds, "I've been a bad best friend."

"Yeah." Stevie cocks an eyebrow at her, holding Twyla's gaze and keeping her on the hook. "You have been."

Twyla doesn't even know where to begin to make amends. They've never had to deal with this before; after they'd split up four years ago, neither Twyla or Stevie had seriously dated anyone else, and they'd always been able to make time for each other. But after _The Bachelor_ had finished filming, Twyla had gotten caught up in the excitement of Alexis showing up and moving in last month. 

"Why don't we do this more?" Twyla asks after a moment, her voice soft. She gestures between them and their mugs, and smiles as Stevie wrinkles her nose. "Not necessarily this early. But coffee together, just you and me. I'm sure Maureen won't mind."

Stevie considers this, pressing her lips together. "I guess someone has to make sure you don't get too much of a big head, now that you're famous." 

"I'm not famous." It's a lie, though, and they both know it. Twyla just doesn't know how to deal with it yet.

"Uh-huh. Yeah." Stevie tilts her head, vaguely indicating the reporters on the town's edge. "'Cause they're out there looking for details on whenever Roland takes a shit."

Twyla giggles, unable to help it, and it breaks the bit of tension that's in the air. Stevie's laughing now, too, and Twyla has to hope that whatever damage she's inadvertently done to their relationship isn't insurmountable.

"Famous or not," Twyla says, once her laughter's subsided, "you're my best friend." She waits, watching as Stevie grimaces at the sentimentality, then says, "And you always will be, whether you like it or not."

"'Best friend' is a little strong." But Stevie's been saying variations on that for over fifteen years, ever since they met in kindergarten, so Twyla gives her a knowing look across the counter. "But… if it makes you feel better, I'll let you call me that for now." 

"I'm never going to stop." Twyla takes another sip of her coffee. "It's part of my official best friend duties."

"You don't have to keep saying it." Stevie's smiling, though, so there's hope for them still. 

There's a loud noise outside, interrupting Twyla's thoughts, then some bickering they can hear even through the closed doors of the café. Then there's another loud noise and what sounds like – a crash of some sort. 

Twyla raises her eyebrows, bemused. "I probably don't want to know what's going on out there, right?"

"No, I don't think so." Stevie pushes her mug across the counter, and Twyla tops them both off with a little more coffee. "I heard Roland say something the other day about 'creative ways to fight off the paps,' and I want nothing to do with that." 

Someone's yelling outside, sounding suspiciously like the mayor himself, but Twyla tries to talk over it. "By the way, Alexis' brother is coming into town this weekend." Now that Stevie's warming up again, Twyla tries to put on her most charming smile. "And I was thinking maybe you could come over and have dinner with us?" 

Stevie cocks an eyebrow. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you're my family." Twyla can feel her smile broaden at Stevie's visible discomfort. "And he's Alexis' family. And I think it'd be fun."

"You know, I thought that after this conversation, you'd be the one owing _me_ a favour." 

"What if…" Twyla pretends to ponder. "You can leave at any point during dinner, whenever you want? Even if it seems really rude? And you don't have to apologize to anyone for it."

Stevie leans forward, her elbows on the counter. "Even if it's really, _really_ rude?"

Twyla nods. "Especially so."

"You got yourself a deal," Stevie says, eye gleaming, and they shake hands.

  


* * *

  


alexis.rose **102k** likes  
**alexis.rose** Love my brother… especially when he takes me shopping! 🛍️💸👠 I might get a lil sappy on tonite’s episode of #thebachelor about what a good brother David is. Let me know in the comments why your siblings are the greatest! 👇  
  
#bachelornation #brothersarethebest #torontoshopping #torontolife  
  
**twyla.sands** miss you! 🌹  
  
**hannahbananaonthebachelor** this is so cute, Alexis! my sisters are always there for me when a guy breaks my heart and I love them so much for that! ❤️  
  
**a.kozlov.89** um 👀 im like 99% sure this store is in VANCOUVER? i think ive been there! i googled and its not a chain… **@alexis.rose** why are you lying?  
  
**chillinginthesix** **@a.kozlov.89** DM me the name of the store! 🙏  View all 7.9k comments

  


* * *

  


The morning after the second rose ceremony, a new ‘week’ - a measure of time defined by the producers, not the calendar - begins. While she lets dry shampoo sit in her hair for a minute, Alexis brushes her teeth, shoulder-to-shoulder with Twyla in front of a bathroom sink. She feels strangely and sort of magnetically attached to Twyla ever since the moment during the rose ceremony when she was worried - and _angry_ about the possibility - that Mutt wasn’t going to give a rose. They might be dating the same guy, but Alexis really _likes_ Twyla. Ever since they first walked into the mansion, they’ve felt like their own cute little team. Alexis is eager to see Mutt again, to feel the soft scratch of his beard on her skin when they kiss, but it became obvious to her quickly that seeing Mutt can only ever possibly occupy a fraction of her time, and she wants to keep spending her Mutt-less time with Twyla. 

Twyla runs the water while she spits neatly into the sink, then rinses off her toothbrush. Alexis takes her turn to spit when Twyla’s securing her toothbrush in its little protective case, and their hips bump. Twyla gives her a gentle hip-check in return, and Alexis catches sight of Twyla’s small, sweet smile in the mirror. 

“What’re you wearing today?” she asks as they wander back into their room. Rachel is fighting with the cuffs on her jean shorts, trying to fold them evenly, and Alexis drops down onto her knees, batting Rachel’s hands away, to fix the problem. 

“Shorts,” Twyla says with a shrug, watching Alexis closely, as though she might also need some of Alexis’ wisdom from a long-ago GAP Kids campaign about cuffing denim skillfully. “A shirt.” 

“Okay, but a cute one, right?” Alexis asks, giving Rachel’s hip a satisfied pat as she finishes off. Rachel is, unfortunately, about the colour of a tomato, and Alexis tsks her tongue sympathetically. “Higher SPF, babe,” she says, going to dig through her bag of skincare before she adds, to Twyla, “You’re totally going on today’s date.” 

“You can’t know that,” Twyla protests lightly, pulling a shirt out of her suitcase and holding it uncertainly. 

“I can’t believe - thanks, Alexis,” Rachel says, when Alexis tosses her a bottle of sunscreen. “I can’t believe Mutt said your name last.” She shakes her head. “I probably would’ve fainted.” 

“Mutt’s way too smart to send Twy home,” Alexis says. “I had no doubts.” 

Twyla sends her a look that’s both skeptical and knowing, but she doesn’t contradict Alexis. Instead, she holds the shirt in her hands up to her body. It’s white, off-shoulder, with a light pattern of mint green stripes. Twyla cocks a hip, posing, and Alexis laughs as she nods. 

“Love that,” she says. 

Once they’re all dressed - Alexis chooses matching set of a cropped blouse and miniskirt, because she can still look extremely dateable even if it’s unlikely she’ll get another date so soon after her one-on-one - they head to the kitchen, make and eat breakfast, and then get mic’d up as all the women gather in the main room for what Shannon’s started calling, “ _The Arrival of the Date Card_ ,” in a dramatic, Mr. Moviefone voices. 

Alexis and Avery work in an easy sort of sync, winding a wire under her shirt, fastening the mic pack to her waistband. “ _What’s the date?_ ” she stage-whispers to them. 

“ _What highlighter are you wearing?_ ” they volley back, and smirk at Alexis’ slight pout. “See, we all have secrets.” 

She sighs, forgives Avery with a boop against their nose, and settles in on the sofa between Twyla and Rachel. Tennessee sits on Twyla’s other side, and when Twyla turns to speak to her, her elbow brushes against the bare skin at Alexis’ midriff. Twyla pulls her arm away automatically, draping it across her lap somewhat awkwardly. It makes Alexis feel - weird, in a way she can’t put a name on. But she doesn’t have time to mull over it, because Verity is asking Olivia to read the date card, and all the chatter in the room fades away as Chris Harrison strolls in. 

After the women whose names were on the group date card - including Rachel - hurry off to get ready, Shannon’s asked to read a second card. Chris Harrison walks in again, as if some time has passed, and lays it down on the table. Shannon hops to her feet, slides it out of its little envelope, pauses, and then says, “Tennessee.” 

There are a few gasps, a couple squeals. Tennessee is obviously trying to keep her excitement to herself, lips pressed firmly together, but the colour rising in her cheeks gives her away. Alexis reaches across Twyla to jostle Tennessee’s knee, offering up a smile meant to say, _get it, girl!_

“Let’s see if we can quench each other’s thirst,” Shannon finishes reading. “Love, Mutt.” 

Tennessee stands up and accepts the date card from Shannon, smiling down at it for a beat before she says, “Well. I better get ready.” She gives her shoulders a small shrug, and then someone yells, _cut!_ and the filming crew starts messing with various wires and moving equipment around. 

The remaining eleven women break off into groups. Shannon returns to the sofa and drops down somewhat morosely into the spot Tennessee was previously occupying, and Twyla immediately slides an arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze. Alexis isn’t entirely clear on the details of the undercurrent of tension between Shannon and Tennessee - they’re all technically competing for Mutt, after all - but she thinks it’s very cute that Twyla’s so tuned into it and ready to try and diffuse it. 

“So, babes,” she says brightly. “What do you think we should do to - ”

“Alexis!” Avery calls, interrupting. “Can I see you in the studio?” 

Alexis sighs. “Yup!” she calls back, despite the way her lower lip is poking outward in a pout. “Guess I have an interview.” 

Twyla smiles at her, head tilted slightly. “I’m sure it won’t take too long.”

She nods, reluctantly getting to her feet, the right side of her body feeling cool and strangely light without Twyla pressed against it. “You two can come up with a badass plan for our day while I’m gone.” She gives Twyla and Shannon each a boop on the nose and heads off to the producers’ studio. 

She takes her seat in the chair across from Avery, familiar with the routine. Behind her, there’s diamond-patterned wallpaper and a hutch with a vase of roses and a burning candle atop it, all of which she knows will appear in soft focus behind her. Alexis fluffs her hair, crosses her legs at the ankle, and waits patiently for Avery’s first question. 

“So,” is all they say. 

Alexis smiles and tosses her hair. “So!” she agrees brightly. 

Avery cracks, a smile tugging at one corner of their mouth, and they lean back in their chair. “So, no date for you today.” 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting one. I _just_ had a one-on-one with Mutt.”

“You did. And how do you think that went?”

“ _Really_ well,” Alexis says, and then edits her statement for the future viewer: “My date with Mutt went _really_ well. I really feel like we connected. We talked about, like, our childhoods and stuff? And it was…” She gives her shoulders a pleased shimmy. “Spontaneous. And I loved that.”

Avery nods slowly, and then repeats, “It went really well.” 

Alexis nods. “Yeah. I think we really… have something. I mean, the beginning of something.” To her surprise, the back of her neck feels hot, like she’s embarrassed. She doesn’t talk much about her _feelings_ when it comes to guys; she’s much more comfortable talking about physical attraction. 

“Do you think Mutt feels the same?” 

Alexis lowers her eyes, studying her knees. She thinks about Mutt’s arms around her as they danced, the way he said, _you’re amazing._ “Yes,” she says, lifting her gaze back to Avery’s face. “I think so.” 

There’s something almost gentle about Avery’s eyes, contrasting the note of skepticism in their voice when they say, “You sound pretty confident about that.”

“I’m a confident person,” Alexis shrugs. She lifts her chin. “And I don’t think I should have to apologize for that. I know myself. I know when a guy is interested.” 

Avery’s eyes narrow. “Mm,” they murmur. “Mmhm.” 

“What?” Alexis leans forward. “Do you _not_ think he’s into me?”

“I didn’t say that,” they say quickly. “It’s just, the fact of the matter is, Mutt’s also dating seventeen other women.” 

Alexis nods, smiling. “I have heard something about that,” she says, teasing.

Returning the smile, Avery asks, “So, do you think you have competition among those seventeen women? Or have you got this in the bag?” 

“Oh, I definitely don’t think _that_ ,” Alexis says quickly; there’s a distinct line between confident and cocky, and she doesn’t want Avery to think she’s crossed it. “Mutt and I have a connection, but that doesn’t mean he’s not making another connections.” 

“Who do you think he’s connecting with?” 

Alexis shrugs again, and offers, “Tennessee just got a one-on-one date.” 

“Mmhm.” They glance down at their notebook. “But _you_ got the first one-on-one. And Twyla got the First Impression Rose.” 

“Right,” Alexis agrees. She waits for further questions, unsure of what else to say. 

“So… it sort of seems like you two were Mutt’s first picks. Do you think Twyla is your main competition?” 

Alexis frowns slightly, and turns over Avery’s words in her head, taking a moment to think. “Twy’s a catch,” she finally says. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Mutt chose her.”

“So you do see her as competition.” 

She huffs out a breath, shifting around in her chair. “I guess?” She doesn’t give Avery the soundbite they’re probably searching for, _I think Twyla’s my competition._ “But she’s also my friend. It’s not… catty, or anything.”

“That’s very… mature.” 

Alexis rolls her lips together. “We shot _A Little Bit Alexis_ almost five years ago. If that’s what you’re basing your opinion of me on.” 

“No,” Avery says, looking suddenly, genuinely apologetic. “No. That’s not what I meant. This situation is intense, that’s all. Even the most mature people can struggle to _stay_ mature. But you seem to be. Which is great.” They look at their notebook again. “I mean, you described Twyla as ‘a catch.’”

“I’m just stating, like, a literal fact.” 

“Why do you say that? Is it because Twyla’s pretty?”

Alexis blinks, mildly taken aback by the question. “Um, yeah. She’s really pretty.”

Avery tilts their head. “What about her is pretty?” 

“Um,” Alexis says again. Avery leans forward, elbows on their knees, nodding encouragingly, so Alexis adds, “Her hair’s really pretty? Like, I wish my natural colour had that much dimension. And she has really nice eyes. They really _pop_. Because of her freckles, maybe? And those are really cute. Her freckles.” She pauses and swallows, feeling a bit like she’s rambling, and tries to envision Twyla through Mutt’s eyes. “And she’s got great boobs.” When Avery just looks at her, she continues, “I mean, like, obviously. You’ve noticed. Anyway, shouldn’t you be asking me this stuff about Mutt?” 

The neutrality in Avery’s expression looks to be carefully constructed. “We can talk,” they say, “about whatever you want.” 

Alexis smooths her skirt over her thighs. Her palms are, grossly and inexplicably, sweaty. “I thought this was an interview. Aren’t you supposed to ask me questions?” 

Avery glances at the camera, then plays with their pen for a moment, contemplatively. “You’ve given me… a lot to work with.”

“So we’re good?” Alexis stands up without waiting for an answer, sliding her hands over her skirt again to get rid of invisible wrinkles. 

Avery nods, and smiles at her, eyes still thoughtful. “We’re good.”

__

  


* * *

  


When Alexis returns to her room, Shannon’s standing with her back to a mirror, neck craned as she looks at her ass in her bikini bottoms critically. Twyla’s gathering her hair up into a high bun, and is also dressed for a swim, the cleavage Alexis was just prattling on about to Avery on unfairly perfect display in a one-piece suit that has a v-cut almost all the way down to her navel. Alexis tries to swallow, chokes on her own spit, and Twyla looks up, an easy smile springing onto her lips. 

“Pool day?” Twyla says. 

Alexis wets her lips with her tongue and manages to swallow for real. The green of Twyla’s swimsuit is setting off her eyes, making them particularly bright and particularly pretty. “I… thought you didn’t like tanning.” 

“I like swimming.” Twyla shrugs on a cover-up. “And I was hoping maybe I could use some of your sunscreen? The stuff you gave to Rach?” 

“Of course,” Alexis says, nodding so hard that it kind of hurts her neck. She smiles. “Just let me change.”

She pulls a bikini out of her bag - triangle top, cheeky bottoms - and trades in her outfit for the swimsuit speedily, having mastered the art of a quick change during her modelling days. Shannon finds them all towels, and they make their way out to the pool, where Madison and the three other women who make up her small clique have already gathered. 

Alexis ignores the judgmental way Madison’s eyes rake over her body, as if they aren’t wearing super similar bikinis. She slides her sunglasses onto her nose, tosses her towel onto a lounge chair, and flicks the tube of sunscreen open. “Want me to do your back?” she offers as she turns to Twyla. 

Twyla nods. “That’d be great.” 

Her bathing suit ties behind her neck, leaving the expanse of her back bare. Her skin is pale and dusted all over with freckles; Alexis understands how she could burn easily. She squirts some sunscreen into her palm and presses her hand against Twyla’s back, rubbing in small circular motions, wanting to make sure to provide thorough protection from the L.A. sun. Twyla’s shoulder blades jut gently against her hands, and there’s a little twitch in her shoulders when Alexis runs a hand down her spine. 

“Ticklish?” she asks, rubbing sunscreen into Twyla’s lower back. 

“Sort of,” Twyla says, softly. She glances back over her shoulder at Alexis and then looks away quickly. 

Alexis makes sure to get Twyla’s shoulders and the back of her neck, including just beneath the tie of her swimsuit. Satisfied with the job she’s done, she lifts her hand, fingers still white with sunscreen, and says, “I’ve still got, um - ”

Twyla turns around to see what she’s talking about. “Oh.” She glances down at the front of her body, and Alexis does too. She doesn’t fully understand why she hasn’t just wiped the sunscreen onto her own skin, her neck or her stomach or one of her legs. But it’s like her hand is reaching forward of its own accord, moving toward Twyla’s skin, the strip of belly bared by the low cut of her one-piece. “Should I just - ?” 

There’s no answer from Twyla - no agreement, no opposition. Alexis’ sunscreen-covered fingers brush along the spot just beneath the center of Twyla’s rib cage, and she can _feel_ the sharp breath Twyla takes at her touch. Part of her feels compelled to pull her hand away, maybe even to apologize, but instead she flattens her hand against Twyla’s skin, spreading sunscreen downward, her fingertips tracing over freckles. 

Alexis moves her hand upward again, rubbing all traces of the sunscreen in, stopping when her hand is once again beneath Twyla’s ribs. 

Twyla reaches a hand toward the tube of sunscreen, but doesn’t take it. “I can do... ”

“Yeah.” Alexis basically shoves the tube at Twyla’s hand. The cut of Twyla’s suit displays the swells of her breasts, and Alexis’ eyes discover a darker smattering of freckles, maybe even a birthmark, on the curve at the bottom of Twyla’s left breast. She blinks at those freckles, at Twyla’s abs, at the contours of her hips, and then at the tile under her feet. 

“Alexis?” 

She snaps her head up and finds Twyla looking at her while simultaneously rubbing sunscreen along her collarbones. “Do you want me to do yours? Your back, I mean?” 

Alexis shakes her head, the ends of her bouncy ponytail slapping against her cheek. “I, um.” She adjusts her bikini top, abruptly feeling exposed, somehow. She forces a smile onto her face. “I don’t burn that easily.”

  


* * *

  


The afternoon meanders by slowly, at a syrupy pace that first unsettles and then relaxes Alexis. She shakes off the high-strung feeling the sight of the freckles on Twyla’s back and abs and breasts gave her, blaming it on Avery’s weird questions and the way they were nudging her toward feeling jealous, to comparing herself to the other women who are sharing Mutt’s attentions. Shannon makes daquiris, and then she and Twyla get in the water while Alexis stretches out on a floatie shaped like a flamingo. 

Shannon swims laps, the strong cuts of her arms and legs through the water creating little waves that gently jostle Alexis’ floatie. Twyla swims at a more casual pace, legs flashing white beneath the sun-dappled water. She tires out sooner than Shannon does and hangs off the side of the inflated flamingo, rivulets of water running over her skin. Alexis notices and then firmly un-notices a drop of water sliding its way beneath the neckline of Twyla’s swimsuit. 

“This is really nice,” Twyla says on a contented-sounding sigh, folding her arms along the side of the floatie and resting her chin atop them. “I hope I’m on one the next dates, but today’s been… nice.” She shrugs. “Relaxing.” 

“Yeah,” Alexis agrees, then adds, “I’m glad we’re both here today.”

Twyla smiles, her eyes squinting in the sun. “Me too.” 

Shannon surfaces near them, pushing her wet hair out of her face, smoothing it out over her head. “God,” she says, a little breathless, shaking her head in Alexis’ direction. “You look like something out of a magazine.” 

“Um, babe,” Alexis says, sliding her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. “ _You_ look like you just walked off the set of _Baywatch_ , so - ”

“A magazine?” Madison’s voice floats across the pool, a certain amount of derision in her tone, and they all turn to look at her. “Good one, Shan. A magazine from, like, 2013, maybe.” She tilts her head as she looks at Alexis, mock-sympathetic. “Trying so hard isn’t really _in_ anymore, babe.” 

Alexis pushes her sunglasses back up and directs a smile at Madison. “Mads,” she says, touching a hand to her chest. “That is _so_ nice of you to take time out of your day to think about advice to share with me! I’m, like, _such_ a fan of women who support women, you know?” She lets her smile stretch wider, and can’t resist just a little dig: “I mean, I had like _no_ time on my one-on-one with Mutt to worry about how hard I’m trying, so this is _super_ sweet of you.” She slouches back down on her floatie without waiting for a response from Madison; on her left, Shannon smothers a chuckle and then slips back beneath the surface of the water. 

Twyla’s mouth is turned downward in a concerned frown. “I don’t know why she acts like that with you…” she says very softly. 

“It’s just the kind of person she is.” Alexis gives Twyla’s nose an affectionate boop. “Don’t worry about her, babe.”

“But doesn’t it bother _you_?”

Alexis almost snorts. “I went to prep school. And I have met some _bitchy_ models in my day. I can handle Madison.” When Twyla still looks uncertain, Alexis lays a comforting hand on her damp arm. “Seriously, Twy, it’s fine.”

“Okay,” Twyla says, her frown easing away. Alexis tugs her sunglasses down a little again, winks dramatically, and grins when it earns her a laugh.

  


* * *

  


When the six women who’ve been on the group date return, Alexis joins all her roommates in providing a supportive chorus as Rachel dresses for the cocktail portion of the date. For the most part, Alexis provides input as Shannon gives Rachel a smoky eye from where she’s stretched out on her bunk. All the hours beneath the sun have made her sleepy. 

“Have fun, hottie!” she calls as Rachel heads out, stifling a yawn, but still, both Shannon and Twyla catch it. 

Shannon stretches her arms above her head and says, “I’m gonna grab a shower,” gathering up a change of clothes before she goes to find an unoccupied washroom. 

“I should probably shower, too,” Twyla says thoughtfully, but she stays seated where she is on the floor. 

Alexis nods, draping an arm across her forehead. “Isn’t it funny how doing nothing can make you so tired?” 

“Yeah,” Twyla says, pressing a hand over her mouth as she yawns again and using her other hand to push herself up to her feet. 

Alexis reaches out, looping her forefinger and thumb loosely around Twyla’s wrist. She shuffles over toward the wall, making as much room as she can on the single-person mattress. “Lie down, Twy.”

Twyla looks at her wrist, still held in Alexis’ grasp, and then up at her own bunk. She’s very still for a moment, and then she ducks down and stretches out alongside Alexis. Their arms, hips, and thighs press lightly together; Twyla’s skin is still sunshine-warm. Alexis breathes out a sigh, relaxed, and tips her head so that it rests against Twyla’s. 

“This kind of feels like summer camp,” she says. “Or at least, how I imagine summer camp.” 

“I used to camp in my backyard,” Twyla says. She shifts a little, her toes brushing Alexis’ calf. “One of my teddy bears was the counsellor, and I’d put him to bed and then tell all my dolls ghost stories.” 

Alexis smiles, turning her head to look at Twyla, whose eyes are still directed upward. Twyla has a very cute nose, extra freckly from being outdoors today. “That’s _so_ cute. Were your dolls scared?” 

Twyla breathes a small, soft laugh. “No. My ghosts were never that scary.”

“I can just imagine you.” Alexis rolls onto her side, facing Twyla, and tucks both her hands beneath her cheek. “In your tiny little PJs, holding a flashlight under your chin.” 

Twyla turns her head so that they’re face to face. There’s such little distance between them, squished onto the mattress together, that Alexis’ whole field of vision is full of Twyla. “Pretty much,” she admits. 

“Do you want kids?” Alexis asks. The question slips out of her mouth before it even registers in her brain as something she’s curious about. 

Eyebrows arching up minutely, Twyla says, “Um. Yeah, I think so.” 

“Avery told me to talk about that with Mutt. Having kids.” 

Twyla’s eyes travel over Alexis’ face slowly, forging a path that Alexis could swear that she feels like a burning on her skin, over her jaw and cheeks and forehead. “And did you?” Twyla asks, her voice softer than it was a moment ago. 

“No,” Alexis says. She smiles, but it fades quickly, and it’s not quite cheerful. “But if he wants kids, and you want kids, that’s probably… good, for you.” 

“That’s just… one thing, of many, that we’d have to agree on. A big thing,” Twyla acknowledges. “But not the only thing.” She rolls over, too, mirroring Alexis’ position. If Alexis moved the tiniest amount, their noses would touch. “Do you not? Want kids?” 

Alexis bites the inside of her bottom lip. The inquisitiveness in Twyla’s eyes is gentle, judgement-free, and Alexis doesn’t feel cornered like she did when Avery prompted her to talk about the future with Mutt. “I don’t know,” she says honestly. “I never… told my dolls not-scary ghost stories.” 

Twyla touches her arm, thumb hooking gently into the crook of Alexis’ elbow. “That doesn’t mean anything, Lex. You know that, right?” 

Alexis shrugs as best as she can while lying on her side. “Yeah. It’s just… complicated, you know? Family can be complicated.” 

Her eyes locked onto Alexis’, Twyla nods. “I know.”

“I feel like I knew that you did,” Alexis says. She laughs at herself, self-conscious. “Sorry, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes sense,” Twyla says quietly. 

Alexis gives her a little smile. Twyla moves her hand off Alexis’ arm and lets it rest in the limited space between them, her knuckles touching Alexis’ chin briefly. While Twyla gets comfortable, Alexis lets her heavy eyelids fall shut. The steady sound of Twyla’s breathing and the hint of heat rising off her body are making Alexis feel cozy, lulling her to sleep. 

She moves one of her hands out from under her cheek, and curls it atop of Twyla’s between their bodies. “What was your best one?” she mumbles, stretching out a leg, her foot sliding between Twyla’s calves. “Best not-scary ghost story…” 

Twyla says something, but Alexis drifts off without really hearing it.

  


* * *

  


Laila returns with the group date rose, and Rachel returns somewhere past tipsy. Alexis removes her makeup, Twyla refills her water bottle, and Shannon tucks Rachel into her bed, carefully maneuvering her into the Bacchus position. 

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell what other people are feeling,” Rachel murmurs into her pillow, hair falling into her face. 

“Do you think she needs a bucket?” Shannon asks. 

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Twyla shrugs. 

Rachel peeks up at them, blurry-eyed. “Sometimes s’hard to tell what _you’re_ feeling,” she slurs morosely. 

“I know, babe,” Alexis tells her, petting her hair. “But that’s okay. You’re good. You’re going to go to sleep now, yeah?” 

“He was with Laila for _so_ long,” Rachel sighs. “Nothing to do but...cocktails.” 

“I know,” Alexis says again, sympathetically. 

Rachel sighs again, heavily, and closes her eyes. Alexis strokes her hair a couple more times, attempting to be soothing, as Twyla sets a trash can next to Rachel’s bunk. 

“Someone should stay with her,” Twyla says. Alexis glances at her, and knows right away that by _someone_ Twyla means herself. She’d been hoping to have a couple glasses of wine and propose some silly drinking games to play with the other women, to sink into the cushions on one of the long sofas and kick her legs out over Twyla’s lap and get snuggly, but if Twyla’s staying here, she will, too. She can probably pilfer a bottle of rosé and a couple glasses for them. 

But then Shannon surprises her, piping up to say, “I’ll stay.” 

“Really?” Alexis asks, probably too quickly. She does her best to keep her enthusiasm off her face, but Shannon must spy it, because she smiles wryly. 

“Yeah.” Shannon meets Alexis’ eyes, then looks at Twyla before returning her attention to Alexis. “You guys go ahead and do… whatever.” 

“Are you sure?” Twyla asks, frowning a little at the thought of saddling Shannon with full responsibility for Rachel. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Shannon waves a hand toward the door, gesturing that they should go. “She’s my bunkmate. I’ll stay with her.”

“You’re so sweet, Shan,” Alexis says warmly, hooking her arm through the crook of Twyla’s. “I would totally stay with you, Twy,” she adds, just in case Twyla is wondering if she possesses the same degree of bunkmate loyalty that Shannon does. 

“No one doubts that,” Shannon says, almost under her breath, pulling a journal out from beneath her pillow. 

It’s Alexis’ turn to frown a little, vaguely surprised by the comment. Before she can say anything to Shannon, though, Twyla’s used their linked arms to pull Alexis more firmly against her side, and she says, “I know, Lex,” with an easy sweetness that makes Alexis’ stomach feel fizzy and fluttery. They fall into step together as they make their way toward the boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen.

  


* * *

  


They get all of five turns into a game of Never Have I Ever when the evening hits a fever pitch. Alexis meant for the game to stay lighthearted, but Madison got involved, a sneering tone in her voice as she said she’d never pay to meet a celebrity, which made Brianna flush hot red as she drank. And then Zoe called Twyla away, and it all devolved further from there. There’s a free-floating sense that they’re all on vacation, but with an unforgettable undercurrent that every woman in the room is in competition with all the others, and that strange, heady mixture of feelings leads to too much drinking, smiles stretched too wide, and mascara-stained tissues in the bathroom trash cans. 

Alexis decides to escape from it all, slipping out onto the back patio. A cameraman follows her, just in case she’s slipping out from the fray to have some kind of dramatic breakdown that they can pull footage of to use in promos. She wants to slide him an unimpressed look - _him_ , not his camera - or at least roll her eyes, but she knows that her half of the bargain here is to pretend that she’s unaware of being filmed. 

She sits down by the edge of the pool, legs crossed beneath her. The tile is cool on the skin of her bare legs, and hard, but she can ignore the discomfort. She leans forward, dragging her fingertips through the chlorinated water and finding it lukewarm. 

As she watches water drip off her fingertips and back into the pool, she draws in the deepest breath she can. All by herself, and to no one but herself, she can acknowledge that this experience is a lot. More than she thought it would be. Her mind feels muddled, filled with Mutt’s pretty, serious blue eyes; with the freckles on Twyla’s skin and the _feeling_ of that skin, sunscreen-slick beneath her palms; with the lost, plaintive look that had been on Rachel’s face when they tucked her into bed. 

Her reverie’s interrupted by a soft, “Hey.” She looks up and finds Twyla’s face, pale under the moonlight. Twyla’s changed into a pair of pyjama pants with little bon-bons printed on them, and her hair is tied up in a bun. 

“Hey,” Alexis replies. “Going to bed?” 

“Soon, I think.” Twyla sits down next to her, apparently unconcerned about getting her PJ pants damp. “What are you doing out here?”

Alexis shrugs. “Just hanging out. It was… hot, in there.” She lets her eyes trace over Twyla’s face. “And you disappeared.” 

“I did not.” Twyla’s knee bumps gently into Alexis’. “I forgot to make my grocery list for tomorrow, earlier. That’s all.” 

“You took a long time,” Alexis points out, slightly startled by how pouty her own voice sounds. 

Twyla turns toward her, eyes soft and full of something Alexis can’t put a name to. “I was just figuring out recipes,” she says. 

“Oh.” Alexis bites into the inner part of her bottom lip, feeling suddenly, weirdly embarrassed. She presses her thumb against the bone of her ankle, hard, trying to snap herself out of it. 

“I saw your list, too,” Twyla says. She rolls up her pants and drops her feet into the water. “There weren’t a lot of… ingredients on it.”

“Yeah. I guess I’m not… so good at ingredients.” Alexis watches the small waves Twyla’s feet are creating. “We… growing up, we had a cook? And lately I’ve… I don’t know. I guess I order a lot of takeout.”

Twyla nods. There’s no judgement on her face, which fills Alexis with immeasurable relief. “I put down stuff for some bigger meals. We can share, if you want?” 

Alexis’ eyes dart toward her face, and then settle on the water again. Smiling a little, she says, “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, Twyla.” 

Twyla laughs quietly, modestly, and then clears her throat. “I’m just offering to make you pasta.” 

Alexis doesn’t bother pointing out that no one’s ever done that for her before, not even that protege of Gordan Ramsay’s she dated that one time. “Who taught you?” she asks. “To cook, I mean. Your mom?”

There’s a beat of silence. Alexis looks up in time to see Twyla’s throat moving as she swallows. “Not exactly,” Twyla says. She sneaks a glance toward the camera, and Alexis can sense that they’ve entered territory that’s not fully comfortable for Twyla. She’s about to change the subject when Twyla says, “My parents - they weren’t always… home. For, um, meals. I learned the simple stuff early. It’s not all that hard. For pasta you just follow the instructions on the side of the box.”

Alexis shifts closer to Twyla, even as she pulls her legs into her chest and rests her chin against one of her kneecaps. “You had to take care of yourself,” she says quietly, understanding. She’s not unfamiliar with looking out for herself, but never like it seems Twyla had to, never when it came to her most basic needs. “Twy - ”

“Not always,” Twyla cuts in. There’s a big smile on her face again, but it isn’t matched in her eyes. “I had a really great teacher, Mrs. Schitt - Jocelyn. I call her Joce, mostly. She looked out for me. She still does. She taught me...so much. Way more than algebra or how to conjugate French verbs.”

“That’s good,” Alexis says. David’s face, his brows knit in a familiar combination of annoyance and concern, a reluctant smile on his lips, pops into her head. “Do you miss her? Being here?” 

“Yes,” Twyla says simply. 

Alexis nods, chin bumping awkwardly against her knee. She glances up at the sky, and then back at Twyla’s face, unguarded and so open, waiting to be read. “Wanna know a secret?” 

Twyla smiles again, more genuinely this time, crinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Sure.” 

“My big brother… he’s always cared about me like that. Looked out for me. And when I was younger - like, twelve - and I was far away, we would do this thing. It’s really lame.”

“I love lame things,” Twyla says, somehow both teasing and earnest. 

“We, um…” Alexis casts a glance up toward the sky. “If I was freaked out about something, or lost somewhere, we would both look at the moon. Because it’s everywhere, you know? The moon’s here, and it’s back in your hometown, where Jocelyn can see it, too.” She presses her mouth into her kneecap for a beat before she says, shyly, “Told you it was lame.” 

“It’s not lame, Alexis.” Twyla’s hand curves around Alexis’ calf, just for an instant. “It’s beautiful.” 

Alexis shrugs. “I mean. I was a kid.” 

Twyla’s eyes are thoughtful, steady on Alexis’ face. “I’m glad you have your brother,” she says. “When you were so young, and so far from home - I’m glad you had someone to tell you to look at the moon.” 

There’s an ache in Alexis’ chest. “I’m glad you had someone, too, Twy.” 

“Yeah,” Twyla says, her smile sweet and easy, before she tilts her head back to look at the sky. There aren’t so many lights out around the mansion, and some stars are visible, speckled around the half moon. Twyla lifts a hand and traces her index finger through the air. “There’s Orion,” she says. 

Alexis watches Twyla’s hand dance through the air, a simple silver ring on her middle finger. She rests her cheek against her knee, face turned toward Twyla, and sighs softly. 

“Pretty,” she says.

  


* * *

  


twyla.sands **4.3K** likes  
**twyla.sands** I've been getting a lot of comments and DMs about the restaurant I mentioned on Week One, and after talking to the owner, they agreed that it would be okay to post about it! Here's me at the Café Tropical, which has been around in Schitt's Creek for as long as I can remember. I started working here when I was in high school, and the menu has always been this big! Anything that happens in Schitt's Creek seems to happen at the Café, and I couldn't be prouder to work here. If you're ever in the neighbourhood, please stop by!  
  
**alexis.rose** babe baby babelicious 🌴  
  
**christineeee** this is so cute! **@aimeejane17** **@em.il.yy** we have to visit!  
  
**jocelynschitt5678** Love you and the sparkle you bring to the cafe, Twyla!!!! Your smile is my favourite thing on the menu!!!!  
  
**steviebudd** for the record there are nine motel rooms in this whole town  
  
**twyla.sands** **@steviebudd** This post isn't about that 🙃  
  
**twyla.sands** **@steviebudd** I'm so sorry, that was... a joke  
  
**steviebudd** **@twyla.sands** yea i know 👀  View all 2481 comments

  


* * *

  


There's another gathering the next day, another corralling of all of the women onto all of the couches for what they're calling a 'girl chat.' Twyla's not expecting much, not after the losing streak she's seemed to have so far, but her heart still sinks when her name isn't called for a group _or_ one-on-one date. 

The bright side, though, is that it's Shannon's turn to be singled out for Mutt's one-on-one attention. Unlike Alexis' date the week before, it's actually scheduled for the same day. Twyla gives her a big hug once they're reunited again, all four of them in their room, and Alexis bends down to root around in Shannon's suitcase and toss outfit options every which way.

"I'm so excited for you!" Rachel exclaims as Shannon plugs in her straightener. 

Shannon gives a helpless shrug, but she can't manage to pull back on a grin. "I guess we'll see what happens!" 

They fuss around her, assessing every part of her to ensure she's camera ready, and Alexis cajoles one of the producers to let them put on some music in their room. It's fun, just like these getting-ready moments always are, but they don't talk about the scorched-earth glare that Tennessee had sent in Shannon's direction, or the fact that Twyla's been left out in the cold for the third week in a row.

  


* * *

  


"Good afternoon," Zoe says briskly, later that day, as Twyla takes a seat in the producers' studio, folding her hands in her lap. Zoe's across from her in seconds, a clipboard pressed tightly against her chest.

"Good afternoon," Twyla echoes as they exchange brief, business-like smiles. "No mic today?"

"Not today." Zoe sets her clipboard on her lap, turning it up to face her, and pages through the papers. "I just wanted to spend a little time connecting with you, if that's okay? Without the mic." She flashes another quick smile.

Twyla has the distinct feeling that she's supposed to feel at ease. She nods, though, and Zoe uncaps her pen. "What do you want to know?"

There's a sudden hesitance to Zoe before she smiles _again_ , showing her teeth. "Twyla. We don't have to get right to work."

"But you're very…" Twyla waves a hand, gesturing vaguely to Zoe's aura. She likes Zoe, truly, but Zoe's always been a little on-edge, like she's always searching for the next thing to cross off her checklist. "I mean, this is your job, so I get it. You have a show to produce."

Zoe tilts her head; she seems to look past Twyla's shoulder at something or someone, but Twyla resists the urge to follow her gaze. When Zoe meets her eyes again, though, it feels a little more genuine.

"Why don't we start over again?" 

"Sure." Twyla's happy to give her a do-over. So she relaxes a little, leaning back against the chair she's been given, and takes a breath. It's early morning, and light's streaming in through the window next to them. The sun feels good on her shoulders.

"How's everything going, Twyla?"

"Good." She pauses, then corrects her speech even though she's not mic'd: "Everything's going really good." 

They're both a little surprised; Zoe's eyebrows raise, and Twyla bites her lip. Zoe's writing something down on her clipboard, observing Twyla over the thick frame of her glasses. "Even though you were the last to get a rose last week?"

"Well – no." Twyla swallows, her gaze dropping briefly to study the pattern on Zoe's wide-legged pants. "I didn't like that part."

"You must be worried about what Mutt's thinking. Where his head's at."

"Yes," Twyla agrees. "I'm worried about where I stand with Mutt." But as Twyla sifts through the previous day, thinking back over all the swimming and junk food and quality time with her roommates and Alexis, she isn't sure how else she could have answered. 

"I guess it's… I mean, Mutt's dating seventeen other women right now." Twyla flexes her hands in her lap, then spreads her palms out against her thighs. "I have to trust that if there's really a possibility for something between us, we'll come back together again." 

"Like destiny," Zoe says, hazarding a guess, and Twyla nods. "You believe in that?"

"I do." Twyla lifts her shoulder in a small shrug, and meets Zoe's eyes again. Now that there's a little more even ground between them, it's easier to open up. "At least, I believe in the choices we make. And if Mutt chooses to continue to explore something with me… he's shaping both of our destinies."

Zoe writes a couple more words and sentences on her clipboard. "You got the First Impression Rose, but now he's going on one-and-ones with other women. Do you see them as your main competition?" 

Twyla _should_ ; she knows that much. But the women that Mutt has singled out are also her friends. "I guess so?" She purses her lips, thinking through the rest of the women, then adds, "I don't know if he's really making connections with anyone else besides Alexis, Shannon, and Tennessee. So, yeah. I guess?"

"And Shannon and Alexis are your roommates." Zoe's eyes are intent. "They're your friends, but also your competition. Does that ever strike you as…" 

Zoe trails off, and Twyla gets the distinct impression that she's supposed to finish the sentence. "Weird?" she tries, and Zoe nods. "I mean, I guess it should? But I knew what I was getting myself into, coming here. And they're all really great women. And we spend so much time together. I'd rather be friends with them than not."

"That makes sense." Zoe shifts, loosening her posture. "There's no tension between the four of you?"

"There's no tension between me and them, no." Despite herself, Twyla wants to make Zoe happy; she's so tightly-wound, Twyla figures she could use the help. So she hesitates, wringing her hands guiltily, before she says, "Shannon and Tennessee don't really get along all that well."

Zoe nods again; she doesn't seem all that surprised. "And you and Alexis… you seem close."

"Alexis and I _are_ close." It's a tiny correction, and Twyla doesn't even know why she does it, but Zoe's leaning in a little more, narrowing her eyes. And Twyla should really stop talking, especially with how Zoe's looking at her, but she can't help but add: "Alexis is really… She's really great, you know? I'm really…" Twyla bites her lip, but she knows she's smiling. "I'm lucky to have met her." 

"That's great." Zoe's tilting her head, scrutinizing Twyla, seemingly considering something – and then she's writing again, unbothered by the prolonged pause it creates. "Really – really great." 

"Thanks. I'm, um. Glad you think so."

Twyla knows she and Alexis are probably the closest out of anyone in the house, but she hopes Zoe's taking it all at face value. They're just friends, a fact Twyla reminds herself of often, even if she now knows exactly what it feels like to wake up next to Alexis, to feel comforted and settled by the particular combination of Alexis' perfume and skin. Her mind drifts to Alexis' hands on her stomach, sun-warm and slick with sunscreen, before she puts that away and shoves it aside to somewhere she tries to forget. 

When she looks back up, Zoe's still watching her. "Do you think Mutt likes Alexis more than he likes you?" 

"I don't know if Mutt likes Alexis more than me." How would Twyla know that? But she grabs onto the mention of Mutt like a lifeline, pulling herself further away from where her mind's wanting her to go. "I don't talk to Mutt about her." 

"That's fair." Zoe scribbles something else down. "But you could… You understand why Mutt would like her?"

Twyla runs a hand through her hair, buying herself some time. Zoe's voice is innocuous, but the question feels more pointed than their interview already does. "Yeah, I do." 

"Why do you think Mutt likes Alexis?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Twyla can hear her pulse, though, and she knows her face is flushing. They're stepping closer to dangerous territory, to the place in her mind she doesn't want to go to while Zoe's here watching her, so she tries not to elaborate further. "Alexis is really fun to be around. I always have a good time when we're hanging out."

"Do you think Alexis is pretty?" Zoe asks after a moment. She adjusts her glasses on her nose, then looks squarely at Twyla, waiting.

Twyla swallows, looking away. She sees Alexis' eyes in her mind, the colour a dead-ringer for the grey-blue of the California sky, and the way her face lights up when she laughs at one of Twyla's jokes. She thinks about the way Alexis rests her chin on Twyla's head, and what Alexis' fingers and rings look like when she wraps her hand around Twyla's wrist. 

"Yeah," she says. "I do."

  


* * *

  


Once Twyla's done, she puts her mic pack back on and finds Alexis outside in the courtyard. For a moment, her presence goes unnoticed; Alexis' face is turned away from her, eyes closed and legs outstretched, her whole body angled up towards the sky as she basks in the warmth of the afternoon. They're not allowed sunglasses during filming, and the gold eyeshadow Alexis applies every morning shimmers in the sun. 

All Twyla can do is look – it's all she'll ever be able to do – so she does, guiltily and greedily taking advantage of this rare moment to observe Alexis. Her eyes are drawn first to the hem of Alexis' cut-off shorts, then linger on the contrast between Alexis' tan skin and the blue-white of the material. From her tousled hair and the angles of her shoulders to the gathering knot tied at the end of her oversized tank, everything about her looks effortless, like she just happened to fall out of bed looking this glamourous. 

But Twyla knows her. She sees the way Alexis looks at herself in the mirror in the mornings, measuring her own appearance against a standard she's set for herself. She knows which little sigh of hers means that Alexis is going to put on a different outfit, and the gratitude that flashes over her face when one of her roommates tells her that a dress she'd second-guessed looks good. Alexis feels like someone she's known all her life, someone she's been destined to meet and befriend.

"Hey, Lex," she finally says, breaking the silence. Alexis startles, opening her eyes, and Twyla smiles at the way Alexis' face lights up when she sees her. "Sorry, that took forever."

Alexis gives a little wiggle of her shoulders, almost like she's revving herself up, and Twyla watches, perpetually fascinated, as she switches herself on. But it's not the kind of camera-ready act that some of the other girls do; it's more like she's gathering all of her focus, and bestowing it onto Twyla. 

"No biggie! I'm sure Zo had _so_ many important things to talk to you about." 

" _Totally_." Twyla grins as Alexis playfully rolls her eyes. "And I actually got some good intel."

Alexis leans in eagerly, twisting in her chair to face Twyla head on. "About the show?" 

"No, not that." Zoe's a closed book, and Twyla doesn't necessarily mind. She knows there's a game, and she's willing to play by their rules. "But I got her to look up your birth chart, like we were talking about last night."

"Ooh, Twy! Look at you, schmoozing your producer!" Alexis looks absolutely delighted, and getting to see this expression alone is worth the deal Twyla had to cut with Zoe. "So, like, what's the astrological hot goss?"

Twyla laughs, biting her lip; she can tell she's blushing, and for a moment she wonders what it'll look like on camera, if they air this. "So it turns out that you have a Sagittarius moon and a Gemini rising."

"Okay…" Alexis' voice scales up as she drags out the word, and then she laughs as Twyla does, too. "So what does that _mean_ , exactly?"

"So we all have multiple signs in our chart," Twyla says, "since it's all about where the planets were at your exact time of birth. The sun sign is the one everyone knows."

"Libra," Alexis says. "And yours is Pisces, right?"

"Yeah. And the sun is kind of like…" Twyla gestures with her hands, vaguely tracing a circle in mid-air between them. "Your core, I guess? Like, your big driver. And Libra is an air sign, known for being super playful and social and fun." 

Alexis looks genuinely pleased. She tilts her head little, playing with her hair, her eyes on Twyla. "What else?"

"Libras love, like… For lack of a better word, pretty things." Twyla smiles, picturing the assortment of shiny, shimmering things in Alexis' suitcase. Alexis runs her thumb over her bracelets, like they're both thinking about the same thing. "They love people and romance." 

"That does sound a lot like me." Alexis stretches her legs out again, and her foot brushes against Twyla's. "Now that you're saying it, I think I read some of that stuff in Cosmo. So like, what else does this say about me?"

Twyla hesitates, and their eyes meet. "Do you want to hear about the more…" She lifts her hands to make air quotes. "Negative stuff?"

"Sure." Alexis grins. "I mean, how deep is it really gonna get?" 

Twyla raises her eyebrows, considering. "Just tell me if it's like, too much, I guess?" Alexis nods, so Twyla continues on: "Libras like peace. It's the sign of balance. So that means conflict and tension is really upsetting to Libras. They want to be liked, and they want to like everyone, so…" She pauses, watching as tension creeps into the corners of Alexis' mouth, and bites her lip. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah." Alexis shakes her head, tossing her hair a little, and strengthens her smile. "That's like, super coincidental, but whatever." 

"Yeah," Twyla echoes. She waits, allowing enough time for Alexis to change the subject, but all of Alexis' attention is fixed on her. "And Libras can be… kind of flighty, I guess. Hard to pin down. A little superficial at times. They're…" Twyla's trying to find the right words. "I guess you could say that Libras are sometimes known for bouncing around from person to person, looking for a real connection that's going to ground them in one place."

Alexis' smile has faded, and the look on her face is so open and unguarded, her eyes vulnerable."And you got all of this from my birthday?" 

"And your birth time and place," Twyla says, contrite. "Still want me to keep going?"

Alexis nods. They've moved closer together without either of them knowing, and Alexis stretches out an arm across the table, her fingertips brushing against Twyla's elbow. "Yeah. What else do the stars say about me?"

Twyla takes a deep breath. The moon signs are always when things start to get even more insightful than what they've already covered – years ago, Stevie had stormed out at this stage when Twyla had done an analysis of her birth chart. Alexis had handled the sun analysis pretty well, though, so Twyla starts with a reassuring smile.

"The moon sign is your emotional center. It's what governs the more private part of you, I guess you could say. What you want, what you remember, what you value in life." Twyla flexes her hand, and her fingers brush against the inside of Alexis' forearm. "Sagittarius is the most adventurous sign, and it's often associated with freedom. And going off of what I know about you, it lines up."

Alexis' attention is rapt, looking at her like Twyla's telling her the secrets of the universe. "I do like adventure."

"Yeah. Like what you told me the other day, about how every time you travel, you learn something new about yourself? That's super Sagittarius. But Sagittarius isn't a very peaceful sign, so even though Libra wants that balance, maybe it's hard for you sometimes to find peace within yourself." Alexis hasn't looked away from Twyla once, and the trust she sees in Alexis' eyes is even more pressure for her to get this right. "And you don't want to be defined by how other people see you. You want to have the choice and the power to define yourself."

"Wow. _Wow_." Alexis scoffs, then laughs, but neither sounds convincing. "Wowee." 

"I'm sorry," Twyla says quickly, but Alexis shakes her head.

"No, it's okay. Keep going."

"Okay." Twyla smiles, though; Alexis' stubborn fire moon is coming through even now. So she adds, "I guess the last big thing is that your Sagittarius restlessness paired with Libra's flightiness might mean that it's hard to not only find that peace with yourself, but also to make real connections outside of yourself, too."

"But it's not, like, impossible." Alexis' voice is quiet, so much so that Twyla has to move to the edge of her chair to hear her. "I mean, I have David." She smiles a little, crookedly, and adds, "And I have you now." 

"Of course." Twyla reaches out, resting her other hand on Alexis' knee. "You definitely have me." 

"Thanks, Twy." 

"You're welcome." Twyla straightens up, realizing what she's done and pulling her hand back into her lap. Alexis doesn't seem to mind, though; there's a little wrinkle in her brow as she turns over everything Twyla's said. 

"Is there anything else?" Alexis says finally. Her eyebrows lift as her expression turns self-deprecating, her smile wry. "What other secrets of mine do you know?" 

Twyla laughs. "You really want me to keep going?" 

"Of course I do, Twy. You just, like… _saw_ me." Twyla knows enough about Alexis to understand that she isn't the most forthcoming person; this is a lot for her, and Alexis' continued willingness is a big step. "So you may as well keep seeing me." 

Twyla meets her eyes again, and the edge of Alexis' smile softens. "I saw you when we first met."

  


* * *

  


"Hey, Twy?" 

It's not Alexis. Twyla's hackles are up as she turns, closing the fridge behind her, and her jaw sets when she finds Madison before her. They're nowhere near close – in fact, Twyla doesn't think they've ever exchanged more than a couple of words – and she has to resist the urge to back away from the look on Madison's face, saccharine sweetness instead of her usual ice.

"Hey, Madison." Twyla applies her brightest smile, focusing on the stretch of her cheeks and the tightness around her eyes. "What's up?"

"Oh, not much." Madison runs her fingertips along the counter as she advances on Twyla. "I just realized you and I haven't had a chance to really _connect_ , you know?" 

"We haven't." It's on purpose, something Twyla's certain has been in mutual agreement. She appraises Madison, wondering what on earth she wants, but she can't decipher the details from her expression. So Twyla decides to be forthright: "Honestly, it didn't seem like you were interested in being friends."

Madison's eyebrows raise, and there's a flash of what seems like genuine amusement before she tamps it down. "Babe, _no_. Never. It's just, you know… the whole First Impression Rose thing was super intimidating. But you haven't even gone on another date since, right? Or should I say… a date at all?"

"Yeah." Twyla tilts her head, looking up; Madison is taller than her, one of the more statuesque women in the house, but she doesn't have the presence Alexis does. Her height's intimidating, her words needling at all of Twyla's insecurities, but Twyla tries to not let it show. "But I know when I can trust people, and I trust Mutt." 

"That's _so_ sweet. I love that for you." Madison draws closer, running a hand through her hair, and lowers her voice. "I wanted to warn you, though. I heard a rumour that the reason why Mutt's been ignoring you is because Alexis has been talking about you to the producers and to Mutt."

Twyla takes a deep breath; despite herself, there's a little spark of doubt that's ignited as she turns Madison's words over in her head. "And where did you hear that?"

"Oh, _everyone_ is talking about it." Madison smiles again, and Twyla has the distinct feeling that she thinks she's won. "She's been telling whoever will listen to her. Poor thing must be _so_ starved for attention. And you seem like a _really_ sweet girl. I just want you to be careful!" 

"I see." 

Twyla's sorting through the remaining seventeen women in her mind, though, assessing each one in relation to herself, and she can't see anyone – except for Madison's circle – doing that. As far as the rest of them, they're all friends. At least, she hopes so.

But she tries to picture Alexis going around, shooting surreptitious glances in Twyla's direction lest she be overheard, and whispering daggers behind her back. She thinks about Ashlynn and Mita and Tennessee doing magazine quizzes with her and Alexis, and the late nights they've spent laughing with Shannon and Rachel, and nothing is adding up in her head.

Even if it _is_ a competition, the Alexis that Twyla knows would never do that. And she has to believe in what they have. 

"Thank you for the heads up," Twyla finally says. 

"Any time." Madison reaches out, trailing her fingers down Twyla's skin, and Twyla lifts her shoulder to shrug off her touch. "This was a great chat, babe. I'm _so_ glad we talked." 

"Me, too." Twyla's smile doesn't come so easily to her this time around, but she manages it all the same. "I think I now know exactly who to trust here."

  


* * *

  


The next night, the evening of Tennesee's one-on-one, there's a smattering of applause and a couple of whoops as Twyla takes out the casserole dish from the oven, laughing as she sets it on the kitchen island. Her three roommates are there for dinner, plus some of the other women, and bowls are being passed around and silverware distributed as Twyla examines her work. 

"I'm gonna die," Kate says, watching eagerly as Twyla hands her a serving. "I haven't, like, had real carbs in over a year. But like, fuck keto."

That sets off a cheer, and Twyla blushes. "It's just mac and cheese, guys,” she says, but her words go unnoticed. The casserole’s already almost empty, considering how many women she’d had to feed, and everyone’s digging in. Nicole had put together a salad, too, but it’s much less popular than the mac.

Twyla takes a scoopful for herself, then finds her roommates at one corner of the dining table. For a moment, it’s almost like she’s back home at Café Tropical; the food’s warm and comforting, and there’s an electric sort of hum in the air as the women talk to each other over their dinners. A wave of homesickness hits her, something she doesn’t know how to place in the context of her new surroundings, and she has to pull herself out of her own head to belatedly add her laughter to her roommates’.

“It was, like, super easy,” Alexis is saying in between bites. Twyla had corralled her into helping with cooking, had tied an apron around her waist and laughed as Alexis had gotten flour _everywhere_. “I could almost make this myself.”

“Maybe you could,” Twyla says with a grin. “If you ever manage to figure out where your oven is at home.”

“I don’t know how you don’t eat mac and cheese like, every week,” Rachel says, cutting off a rebuttal from Alexis. “Or is that just me?”

“Only when I’m carbo-loading.” Shannon gets up, intent on more food, and as Rachel calls after her, asking for another serving, Twyla turns to Alexis.

“Worth all the trouble?” Twyla had done most of the work, but Alexis had gamely grated all of the cheese for it. Things had been touch-and-go at first – Twyla had needed to make sure Alexis wouldn’t cut herself on the grater – but judging by how much of a cheese pull Twyla’s getting with every bite, Alexis is a kitchen apprentice in the making.

“For sure,” Alexis says. She waits for Shannon to sit back down and hand Rachel another bowl, before she adds: “Like, no joke? This is basically better than the last orgasm I had.”

Twyla chokes on her beer, eyes wide. Alexis is smiling innocently, her eyes on Twyla as Rachel thumps her hand against Twyla's back.

Shannon, meanwhile, cocks an eyebrow in Alexis' direction. "That sounds like there's a story involved."

"Oh, it was just, like, whatever." Alexis gives a little wiggle, warming herself up. "I dated this guy Stavros for like, a hot minute –"

"Didn't you guys break up and get back together like, thirteen times?" Rachel pipes up. "I read about it in _In Touch Weekly_ once."

"Must've been an outdated issue, 'cause it was more like seventeen? And just for the record, babes, I did the dumping, like, fifteen out of those seventeen times." Alexis sets her bowl down on the table, and her hands gesture wildly as she continues her story. 

"Anyway. He's such a total buttmunch, but usually _great_ in bed. And I was like, I'm bored and he's in town, why don't we…" She shimmies. " _Reconnect_ , you know? For old time's sake? And so we did, and he was _such_ a hot mess." She lowers her voice, and the rest of the girls lean in. "He fell _asleep_ under me. _So_ embarrassing."

It occurs to Twyla, somewhere in the back of her head, that the story must not be all _that_ embarrassing if Alexis is willing to recount it with the possibility of it being aired on television. _Twyla's_ embarrassed, though; she touches her fingertips to her cheek, assessing just how warm her face is. 

Shannon's looking at Alexis with empathetic derision, scoffing audibly, as Rachel, utterly fascinated, says, "Wow. And I thought sex with my ex wasn't great." 

"Wait," Twyla says after a moment, unable to let it go. "If he fell asleep, how did you still…"

"Come?" Alexis is trying to keep a straight face, but her lips keep twitching. "Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah." Twyla takes another sip of her beer, hoping it'll cool her face down, but it's no dice. "That." 

"I mean," Alexis says, shrugging her shoulder loosely, and winks. "It's not like I don't know how to get _myself_ off. He woke up eventually, like while I was in the middle of things, and I was like, 'babe, I'm already done. And I have to go, like, bail Jitney out of jail again.' So I left and that was it."

Alexis pauses as a grin slides over her face. She looks utterly amused, almost pleased with herself. "What about you three? Last orgasm?"

"The guy I was seeing before I applied." Shannon rolls her eyes. "Super hot, but a wet noodle in bed. You can interpret that in whatever way you want to." 

"I bet Mutt wouldn't be a wet noodle," Rachel says. There's something in her expression, though, that Twyla can't entirely read, and she realizes with a start that she hasn't thought about Mutt in what feels like _forever_. "He's so… burly."

"He's like a more sensitive version of the last guy I was with," Twyla volunteers. Talking about Mutt – even if it's in comparison to Jake – is like the ice cold reminder that she needs to remember that she isn't here, eating mac and cheese with all of these women, just for the sake of it. They're all there for Mutt, and so is she. 

"Ooh, Twy, is that 'last guy' where your 'last orgasm' came from?" Alexis stretches forward, tapping Twyla's wrist. "Dish, please!" 

Twyla laughs; the sound of it is a little strained, and Shannon glances over at her. "It's just this guy from back home. He's kind of… very sexually open, I guess you would say?" She doesn't have the words to explain Jake's whiskey nights on national television, though, so she just says, "He's always been interested, and I guess I finally was like, 'why not?'"

“And was it good?” Alexis asks, cutting off Rachel, who’d just been about to volunteer her own story. 

Twyla thinks about the possibility of all of Schitt’s Creek watching this one day, and she shakes her head to try to erase that mental image from her mind. “It was – good enough, I guess you could say? It’s part of why I ended up applying for this, though. I had a good time, but I…” She smiles, brief and tight, still a little flustered. “I want more than that.” 

“Me, too,” Shannon says, and Rachel echoes the sentiment next to her before Shannon turns her scrutinizing gaze in Alexis’ direction. “What about you? You must be looking forward to not having someone who won't fall asleep on you anymore.” 

Despite how much goading Alexis had just been dishing out, when the attention’s back on her she seems to quail a bit, running a hand through the ends of her hair and pulling her lips into a half-smile. “Yeah,” she says finally, almost like she’s telling them a secret that’s news to her, too. “I want someone better than that.”

  


* * *

  


Someone cracks open a bottle of vodka after dinner, and it sets off a domino effect that leads to yet another party while everyone waits for Tennessee to get back from her one-on-one with Mutt. Twyla and Alexis stay long enough to have a couple of drinks with Mita and Jenna, but when Alexis gestures to the door with a nod of her head, Twyla doesn’t hesitate to follow. 

Once the producers get wind of where they’re going, one of them rushes to set up the fire pit outside for them, then hands them a blanket. “Sorry, we only had one to spare. Enjoy your evening,” he says, grinning at them both.

“You’re so kind!” Alexis calls out to his retreating figure, blowing him a kiss, then whirls around to face Twyla. The fire’s already crackling merrily next to them, warming them both up, and Alexis settles the blanket over both of their laps as they settle onto the patio furniture. 

They can hear the music the girls are playing, and Twyla hums under her breath to the song. Alexis stretches her legs out in front of her, tilting her head up towards the stars; they’re close enough for them to be connected, Alexis’ shoulder warm against her own, the line of Alexis’ arm parallel against Twyla’s. When Alexis shifts again, trying to get comfortable, their hands brush together.

Twyla waits, almost holding her breath, to see if Alexis will pull away – but she doesn’t. And really, when she thinks about it logically, why should it matter? They’ve been closer than this already, and they’re friends. Friends sit together all the time; she’d sit with Shannon or Mita or Tennessee or almost anyone like this. So she decides to roll with it, and when Alexis leans into her more, her head coming to rest against Twyla’s, she tries to not think twice about resting her cheek against Alexis’ shoulder.

  


* * *

  


They have another rose ceremony the next day, and the majority of the house seems to have learned from the previous week; the party breaks up earlier than before, and Shannon gulps down three whole glasses of water before she goes to bed. Alexis and Twyla are back in the kitchen, two pints of ice cream between them, when Tennessee comes home, looking like the very picture of windswept happiness, and they wave her over for all the gossip.

"I'm sure it was a lot better than Shannon's date," Tennessee says, retrieving a spoon so she can dig into the ice cream, too. Twyla raises an eyebrow at Alexis, who gives the tiniest shrug in response, but they both turn their attention to Tennessee as she recounts a helicopter adventure with Mutt. They'd flown over to Joshua Tree, apparently, and had spent hours walking around together, hand-in-hand, dazzled by the forces of nature. 

"He was so sweet." Tennessee's smiling, and her story shifts to the evening portion of the date, lit by candlelight. They'd held each other on a picnic blanket and looked up at the stars, talking together about their hopes and dreams. 

It's unlike Tennessee to be so soft and captivated as she is now, talking about Mutt, and Twyla remembers Zoe's questions about who she thinks Mutt's front-runners are. There's a little flourish of jealousy she can't help but feel; she wants to believe she's still up there for Mutt's attention, and she knows Mutt has to date other people in addition to her, but when will her turn come? She's hoping the rose ceremony the next evening will give her something; she can't imagine leaving now. 

Alexis, perhaps a little more confident in her standings with Mutt, asks all the right follow-up questions about him. Twyla supplements with some nodding and smiling before she stretches her hands up above her head with a yawn.

“I should probably get to bed." It’s late, and Twyla wants to look her best for Mutt, but there's a producer gesturing to her on the very edge of her vision. She turns to look, brow furrowed, and his hand motions turn a little more frantic, so she sighs and gets up. “I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Want me to wait for you?” Alexis asks, concerned, but Twyla shakes her head.

“No, it’s okay.” Twyla had known, going into her deal with Zoe, that she’d have to spend more time with the producers, but she hadn’t thought it’d start so soon. Despite the pang of guilt she feels as she follows the producer to the studio, sifting through all the details that she knows about Shannon and Tennessee’s quiet feud, it was worth it to get Alexis’ birth chart.

  


* * *

  


Three more women go home after the rose ceremony, leaving them with fifteen. This week, Rachel’s the last one to have her name called. Twyla puts her arm around her waist, and the rest of the women from their limo swarm around them for a big group hug. The producers pass around champagne flutes, and then after Mutt makes a toast – "to the journey, and to finding love along the way" – Chris Harrison steps back into the room.

"Ladies," he says grandly, holding his arms wide, palms open. "Your journey with Mutt has taken you this far. But…" Chris pauses dramatically, and Mutt's lips twitch in a barely-suppressed smile. "Everything is about to change. For all of you, this will be the last night you'll spend here at the Bachelor mansion."

There's another long, drawn-out silence as the cameras pan around them, taking in the women's impatient reactions. Twyla's seen enough seasons of this show with Jocelyn, though, to almost be able to predict when Chris exclaims, "We're going to Vegas!"

Squeals erupt all around them; Shannon’s eyes are gleaming as she talks quickly about gambling and probability, and Rachel’s nodding as she tries to keep up. Twyla thinks she hears Tennessee talk about the stark beauty of the Mojave desert and how it’s unfortunate that mankind has decided to turn it into something so unnatural, and Alexis is saying something about topless pools. 

Just like the first night, everyone's excitement is melding into a fever pitch of sounds Twyla can't entirely parse. California was the first place she'd traveled to outside of the immediate vicinity of Schitt's Creek, and she'd barely let herself consider for a second that she'd actually make it this far on the show. 

But now Alexis is in front of her, gripping her hands between them, and Twyla squeezes back, tilting her face up as Alexis beams down at her. "Our first adventure! Can you believe it?" 

Twyla shakes her head; she doesn't think she's ever smiled so widely in her life. "I can't wait."

  


* * *

  


Avery Babery  
  
hey have you checked out reddit?  
  
um no. i get enough of other ppl’s opinions in my dms.  
  
my offer stands to clean those out for you  
  
❤️❤️❤️❤️  
  
you and twyla are getting A LOT of support. I’m sorry for any bullshit you’re seeing but I promise so many people are behind you, and they believe in you, and your story means a lot to them.  
  
yeah? like seriously? actually a lot of people?  
  
actually a lot of people  
  
me included, for the record  
  


  


* * *

  


As is typical, when the episode ends, the patrons at The Wobbly Elm seem to release the collective breath they’ve been holding, and the bar erupts with the buzz of conversation. Jocelyn is audibly sniffling, as she has been ever since the brief clip of Twyla and Alexis talking about their families by the pool aired, but Alexis can’t look in her direction, not just yet. 

Her face feels like it’s on fire, and she can only hope that she’s not beet red. Watching herself rub sunscreen into Twyla’s skin - watching her _face_ \- 

She knows, now, what she was feeling when she touched Twyla: appreciation, want, a little thrill at their closeness. But she’d been so completely out of touch with what was going on in her own brain and body then, searching for other causes to blame for the bursts of butterflies she kept feeling in her stomach. She’s not _embarrassed_ by that, exactly, especially not when she’s so happy with Twyla now, but watching back that phase in her life is… discomfiting. 

One of Twyla’s hands lands on Alexis’ knee, and the other cups the back of her neck, squeezing lightly, thumb slipping beneath the chain of Alexis’ necklace to rub at her skin. “Okay, baby?” she asks softly, her shoulder pressing into Alexis’ and her head tilted forward so that she can catch Alexis’ gaze.

“Yeah,” Alexis says. She smiles and threads her fingers through Twyla’s atop her knee. “Yeah, babe.” She doesn’t want Twyla to think she needs to be taken care of, handled with kid gloves, after every single episode airs. “Go talk to Joce.” 

“Okay.” Twyla leans in and kisses her, briefly but firmly. Thumb still moving against Alexis’ neck, she says, “That was one of my favourite days, you know. In the pool.”

Alexis feels her smile soften on her face. “Mine too,” she says, and gives Twyla another quick kiss before her girlfriend gets up and heads for the Schitts’ table. 

Almost immediately, David takes a seat in Twyla’s vacated chair. “So,” he says. 

“So,” Alexis echoes, her eyes moving slowly over his face, searching for clues as to what he’s thinking - about her, about Twyla, about this place, about everything. He’s a little tipsy, she realizes; when she glances toward the bar, Stevie’s standing with her elbows resting back against it, a small cluster of empty shot glasses within arm’s reach. Alexis tilts an eyebrow up at her brother, curious. 

“Honestly,” David says, voice hushed like he doesn’t want to be heard. “I’m kind of obsessed with…” He waves an arm, gesturing broadly. “All of this.” 

Alexis looks in the direction of the bar again. Her eyes meet Stevie’s, and Stevie looks away. “Really,” she says, flatly, not quite a question. 

“It’s almost charming,” David says. “If desolation can be charming.”

She frowns, feeling impulsively protective of her girlfriend’s hometown. It has, after all, been protecting _her_ with a kind of loyalty she’s never encountered before. “Schitt’s Creek isn’t _desolate_.” 

David touches her shoulder and nods, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Mmkay,” he says, soothingly, like he’s willing to allow Alexis to lie to herself. 

She rolls her eyes, but she can’t ignore the burst of fond warmth she feels for her brother. “Babe, how many polar bear shots did you have?” 

“Six,” David says, holding up five fingers. “Tastier than expected. This place - ” His arm draws another circle, encompassing the room. “Very surprising place. Very… small town.” 

“Uh huh,” Alexis says, amused. “You need some food.” 

David’s arm forms another languid circle, this time in Stevie’s direction. “I met the proprietor,” he says, “of the town’s hotel.”

“Motel,” Alexis corrects. “And I know you did. We all had dinner together.”

He ignores her. “The hotel must have a… dining establishment?” 

Both of Alexis’ eyebrows arch up. “Did you ask Stevie about the motel’s dining establishment?” 

“I had _drinks_ with Stevie. Shots. Grizzly bear shots.” 

“Okay, well, you should ask her sometime,” Alexis says, imagining the curl of Stevie’s lip, her sarcastic response. “But tonight, we’ll go to the café. Twy can open up again and we’ll get you some fries or something.” 

David frowns thoughtfully. “What about gyoza?” 

Alexis suppresses a smile. It’s rare that she has to take care of drunk David; their positions are usually reversed. “We’ll stick with fries tonight, okay?” 

Frown still in place, David turns in his chair to face her more directly. “Alexis,” he says. 

“David,” she replies, ready to hear one of his serious opinions about the importance of readily available late-night takeout. 

But instead, he reaches out, smoothing a few strands of her hair, and says, with such simplicity it takes her breath away, “I’m proud of you.”

She blinks, and asks softly, “What?” 

“I’m proud of you,” David repeats. He looks faintly surprised by his own words. “My baby sister’s a… queer icon.” 

“ _Da_ vid,” Alexis says, rolling her eyes again. “I’m _not_ an _icon_. If anything, Twy is.” 

“Both of you,” he says, somberly. “You both.”

Alexis shifts in her seat, somewhat uncomfortable. “I don’t know if people should, like… look up to me. I’m not… I mean, I don’t really know what I’m doing, or how to… set an example, or whatever.” 

“I don’t think it’s about knowing how to do it,” David says. His eyes are a little glassy, but his expression is resolute. “It’s just about _doing_ it. And you are.” 

Alexis’ fingers twitch in her lap, and she extends her hand oh-so-slightly, letting her fingertips bump against the side of David’s thigh. “I - ” She pauses, licking her lips. Voice just above a whisper, she tells him, “I only know how because you did it first. You showed me.” 

Their eyes lock, and David’s hand curls around her fingertips, squeezing briefly. When he releases his hold, they both pull their hands back and grimace at each other, a shared, wordless expression that means, _gross._

“I need to, um, circulate the room quickly,” Alexis says. “Then we can go get you food.” 

David shakes his head as they both get to their feet. “Drinks first,” he says, and yells, toward the bar, “Two please drinks!” 

Alexis snorts an undignified laugh, and allows herself to be dragged, David’s hand in the crook of her elbow, over to the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special shoutout to danieljradcliffe for sourcing some of the images for this post! <3


	4. Week Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Previously on _The Bachelor_ :**  
> After receiving the coveted First Impression Rose, Twyla is still waiting for her first date – group date, or one-on-one – while grappling with a whole lot of yearning for Alexis, the recipient of the first one-on-one date with Mutt. 
> 
> A rivalry seems to be quietly brewing between Shannon and Tennessee, and Twyla made a deal with the producers to feed them information about the feud in exchange for them looking up Alexis' zodiac birth chart. 
> 
> Speaking of the producers… they seem to think something is up between Alexis and Twyla. Some of their probing questions have started to mess with Alexis' head, and she finds herself looking at Twyla in a new light…

_**/r/TheBachelor – Mutt's season 🐶 – RECAP of Twyla Sands on Bachelor Happy Hour!!** _

_this was a really good interview and i think everyone really needs to listen/watch! but for the people who can't, here is what happened… i tried to get everything, let me know if i missed anything!!_

_first off, rachel lindsay right off the bat starts off by asking twyla about what she thinks of all the buzz about her being a contestant with an openly-queer dating history. love how rachel never shies away from the hard questions! she doesn't beat around the bush (unlike twyla, am i right – ok, ill see myself out)_

_twyla talks about how she never really realized that it would be something bout her that would resonate with ppl but that she's really grateful to share this part of her story. shes getting a lot of DMs about it from people on instagram and it means a lot to her that she can show that something like this doesn't have to be a big deal._

_they talk a little about her dating history, and yes shoutout to Here4TheWorstReasons for totally calling it with that post last week! twyla dated this girl she grew up with and they were together for a few years but now are best friends._

_she also identifies as queer which is super cool, becca kufrin asks some good questions about that (like what does queer mean in comparison to bi or pan and stuff) and twyla explains how queer is just what feels right for her but if people have a hard time figuring that out she'll also say pansexual. she talks a lot about it tbh, and since i think we should reward TPTB for actually promoting this kind of dialogue on the show you guys should watch the episode instead of me recapping all of it but if you really want me to i guess i can in the comments later!_

_they ask about who she's still friends with from the show (shannon, rachel, alexis, tennessee, hannah are her best friends from the show) and i swear there's a little tiny hesitation before she says alexis' name!!_

_they talk a little more about where twyla went to school and how she grew up and it's cute. twyla confirms that she's back home in schitt's creek for now and that she's had a few people who watch the show come into the café and she's taken pictures with them. she says it's crazy to suddenly be someone people know about, and rachel and becca totally agree that it's a weird experience but one they both wouldnt trade for anything ever._

_okay here's the best part!! at the end of her allotted time becca says she knows twyla can't spoil anything but asks twyla if she's happy with how the show turned out for her and you guys it's the cutest thing!! she kind of looks off screen a bit, to her right, and then she smiles and she looks back at the camera and says "yes i'm really happy. i can definitely say that. I have zero regrets about anything that happened on the show." !!_

_what do you guys think it means??_

__

  


* * *

  


After the podcast finishes shooting, they put Alexis' mini-studio away: the ring lights, the assortment of backdrops, and the USB mic she uses for work. The guest bed's made; David had stayed a few nights with them, but has chosen to spend the rest of his time in Schitt's Creek at the motel so that he could have some privacy from what he'd deemed an 'uncouth, mortifying stream of constant affection.' 

Twyla isn't all too convinced that there isn't another reason why David wants to spend more time at the motel, but Alexis and Stevie already have a tenuous relationship and she doesn't want to add more fuel to the fire. Alexis has been on edge since the last episode aired, too, and Twyla hasn't been able to entirely pull her out of it.

The journey's been hard on both of them, but it's taken more of a toll on Alexis. Twyla's alternated space, direct and indirect questions, and diversions, but none of the techniques have successfully gotten Alexis to open up like Twyla suspects she needs to. Alexis has never been the most forthcoming person with her emotions, something they've been working on together, but Twyla isn't sure they'll make it through the rest of the season if they don't talk about whatever's on her mind.

It's time to take matters into her own hands. 

"We have some time before we have to get to the Elm." Twyla reaches out, catching Alexis' hand in hers and steering her back towards their bedroom. "And with your brother around, I think we've been a little low on snuggles."

Alexis smiles, dutifully allowing herself to be led towards the bed. "How can I say no to that?"

It's a yes, but it's not the kind of enthusiasm Alexis has previously shown towards all forms of cuddling and snuggling. Still, it's a start. Twyla tugs Alexis onto the bed next to her, slipping a leg between Alexis', and rests her cheek against Alexis' soft sweater as Alexis melts against her, wrapping her arm around Twyla's waist and resting her chin on top of Twyla's head.

"I don't know what I’d do without you, Lex," Twyla murmurs after a little while, gratified by the way Alexis' breathing seems to have evened out some. "Meeting you changed my life." 

"Me, too." Alexis traces patterns on Twyla's back, sending shivers down her spine, and Twyla tilts her head up to kiss Alexis' neck as Alexis sighs into her hair. "I love you." 

"I love you, too." Twyla slips her hand under Alexis' sweater and the camisole she finds underneath it, then presses her palm flush against Alexis' back. "But you've been kind of... I mean, I know everything's been a lot, lately." 

Alexis' chin moves gently against the top of Twyla's hair as she nods. "Yeah," she says quietly. "It's a lot." 

"Especially with the commercials they keep showing for tonight, with my date," Twyla ventures, careful to keep her voice gentle, feeling gratified when Alexis nods again. " _And_ there's all the speculation about us, plus people wanting both of us to be with Mutt. And now there's all of this stuff with people talking about me and Stevie, how we used to date." 

Alexis makes a little frustrated noise in the back of her throat, and her hand tightens on Twyla's shirt. "It's a lot," she repeats. 

"I know, babe." Twyla leans back, shifting underneath Alexis as she settles one of her legs between Twyla's, and looks up into Alexis' clear blue eyes. "I know. I hate it, too. I wish I could tell everyone that I love you, that I just want to be with _you_. Don't you know how badly I want to scream it from the rooftops?" 

Twyla props herself up onto her elbows, and tilts her head up for a kiss that Alexis readily gives her. She can feel everything Alexis wants to say, all of the intent behind Alexis' kisses, the way her lips feel bruised when Alexis pulls away to catch her breath. 

"I had to sit there while you talked to them about _Stevie_ and _Mutt_." Alexis' voice is quiet, her face open and vulnerable, and her gaze lifts to the ceiling before she adds, barely in a whisper, "And you're here with me instead."

"Because I love you." Twyla hooks her fingers into Alexis' necklace, tugging Alexis down as she lies back, pulling Alexis into another kiss as she slides her leg up. Alexis rolls her hips down against Twyla's thigh, her breath hitching, and Twyla's other hand settles on Alexis' ass, helping her move. "I love you, Alexis. Just you." 

"Yeah?" Alexis rocks again, her eyelashes fluttering, before a determined look falls over her face and she shifts up and off of Twyla, settling between her thighs before she starts to tug Twyla's joggers down. They're actually Alexis' clothes, and once Twyla's kicked them off, Alexis traces her fingers down the underwear Twyla's wearing – another piece of Alexis' clothing. 

Their eyes meet as a desperate sound catches in Twyla's throat; Alexis' smile, gentle even in its mischievousness, is threatening to undo her already. "Tell me, baby." Twyla loves Alexis' voice when it's low and intimate like this, sharing secrets just for her. "Tell me who you want."

It's frigid outside, but Twyla's burning up inside their bedroom. She shrugs her shirt off, then reaches behind her to undo her bra and bare herself fully in front of the woman she loves. 

"Alexis," she says again, tilting her hips up as she searches for more pressure, more of Alexis' fingers, more of everything, but Alexis skims her hands up Twyla's body instead, lingering teasingly on Twyla's breasts before she moves them back down to Twyla's thighs. "I want you. I love _you_. Alexis, please."

Alexis bites her lip. Her eyes range over Twyla like she's committing her to memory, like if she closes them, she'll always see Twyla spread out for her like this, burned into her eyelids. "Please what?"

"Please fuck me." The words come out in a rush, and Alexis pulls Twyla's underwear down her hips, but she doesn't do anything else until Twyla adds, meeting Alexis' gaze head-on, "Fuck me, Lex, please." 

"That's not my name," Alexis murmurs, but her fingertips find Twyla's clit anyway. "What's my name, baby?"

Twyla gasps, and her hands tighten in the bedsheets first before she moves them onto Alexis' thighs, over her jeans. "Alexis," she says, and she's rewarded by the first press of Alexis' fingers inside her. "Alexis," she says again on a moan, rocking her hips up against Alexis' hand, and her eyes close as Alexis giggles. 

"You're so needy, Twy. So fucking gorgeous, and all mine." Alexis leans down and gets her mouth on Twyla's clit, and the pressure of her tongue and the rhythm of her fingers are too much and not enough all at once. Twyla's head tilts back against the bed, overwhelmed, Alexis' name a repeated litany on her tongue, and when Alexis coaxes her orgasm out of her, she comes so hard, it's almost a surprise.

She wraps her hand around Alexis' wrist when she can't take anymore, then bites her lip as Alexis draws her hand back and licks Twyla off of her fingers. "I'm all yours," she reminds her, still breathless. "The only place I'm going is wherever you are."

For the first time in a while, Alexis seems to actually relax into her smile. "Me, too."

  


* * *

  


"I had some special visitors today at work." 

Twyla unwraps her burger, but well-worn work habits die hard and she sets all the fries and onion rings in the center of their table, making sure everyone's sides are accounted for, before she takes a bite of her own food. 

"Like, producer visitors?" Alexis looks up from her sandwich, one of her eyebrows arched in a way that Twyla's learned to recognize as anxious.

"Did one of the paps break through Roland's barricade?" Stevie asks. 

"No." Twyla takes a couple of onion rings, smiling shyly. "I actually had a couple of fans drive up from Toronto just to visit the café."

"Really?" David asks, and Alexis shoots him a warning sort of look before he wiggles his head, his tone defensive. "I wasn't asking in, like, a bad way."

"Twy has tons of fans," Alexis says, leaning sideways against Twyla's shoulder and draping an arm around her. "It's her cute lil' face. And the café is great." 

David makes a big show of rolling his eyes. It's an expression Twyla knows so well from watching it countless times on his sister's face, and she doesn't think the similarities between them will ever cease to amuse her. 

"I wasn't asking in a bad way," he repeats. "It's just that it's, you know. A long drive."

"I thought so, too," Twyla admits. 

"Should've told them to stay at the motel." Twyla's eyes narrow slightly at Stevie; her voice is as dry as ever, but there's also something... different. Softer, maybe, or a little less edge. Whatever it is, Twyla can't quite put a finger on it. "Maybe I should put that online. Special rate just for Twyla Sands' fans."

"No," Twyla says quickly, but Stevie's eyes are already gleaming. "Let's – we don't need to do that." 

"They can get dinner at the café, stay at the motel, then get breakfast before they drive down." Stevie tilts her head, pressing her lips into a thoughtful line, then relaxes them into the barest of smiles. "Seems like a great idea to me. And we both benefit."

"But then David can't hide out at the motel anymore," Alexis points out. 

There's the barest shift in David's posture as he glances at Stevie, eyebrows raised, then back at Alexis. "It's just a hypothetical," he says. "We don't need to get all nit-picky." 

"Alexis has a point," Twyla says dutifully, defending her girlfriend, and is rewarded by a squeeze from Alexis' hand on her thigh, under the table. "Anyway, they didn't really seem to mind the drive. They were just really happy to be here, I guess?" 

"It's 'cause of your cute lil' face," Alexis repeats. She kisses Twyla's cheek, then laughs as she pats at Twyla's face with her fingertips. "Oops, babe, got a little lipstick on you." 

It's been a while since Twyla's seen Alexis seem so comfortable, and she's grateful for the way Alexis' smile lights up her face. David's presence seems to truly relax her, and she remembers a conversation months ago, underneath the California skies, exchanging whispers about their families and lack thereof. It makes her heart swell, and the urge to lean over and pull David into a tight hug is so strong, she almost doesn't know what to do with herself. 

Alexis is still wiping at the lipstick stain, though, and Twyla catches Alexis' hand in her own. "It's okay," Twyla says, meeting Alexis' eyes, and smiles. "How else will people know I'm yours?"

"Ew," Stevie says, but it's free of the vitriol that would've been there just a few weeks ago. She nudges David with an elbow. "Let's get drinks." 

"Never thought you'd ask," David says airily, but Twyla thinks she sees him suppressing a smile as they move over to the bar.

"So what did your fans say?" Alexis asks, once they're alone. 

Twyla grins. She'd felt a little embarrassed at the thought of bringing this up in front of David and Stevie, but now that it's just the two of them... "So they're actually, um. Fans of you and me." 

"Like, they have us winning their Bachelor Brackets?"

"No." Twyla raises her eyebrows, waiting for Alexis to catch on. "Like... they ship us together. In a gay way." 

Alexis' mouth drops open, and Twyla can't help but laugh. "Really? We have _shippers_?"

"I guess so!" They've both been avoiding the internet discourse, but now Twyla's of half a mind to investigate it. "They call us 'Twylexis.' Apparently it's this big thing on Reddit and Tumblr." 

"I've been shipped before," Alexis says musingly. "But, like, mostly with Stavros' friends." A giddy note enters her voice as she grasps Twyla's hands in her own, their food ignored on the tabletop. "Babe, this is so exciting! We're, like... bringing representation to _The Bachelor_ , just like Becca said on the podcast." 

Twyla hadn't thought about it entirely like that; she'd just been surprised to hear that people were rooting for them to get together. She'd always wanted the contestants to date the lead, and the thought of just how pivotal their season of the show is going to be is suddenly hitting her hard. 

"It's just going to get bigger," she says quietly. "The ship, I mean." Their eyes meet, and she knows they're both thinking about moonlit pool kisses and whispered reassurances, fights that felt like they'd eat her up alive and Alexis' fingers threaded between hers in the back row of rose ceremonies. "With everything they haven't shown yet..."

"Hey," Alexis says intently. She brings her fingertips under Twyla's chin, and lifts her head up. "We're gonna be okay. And it's, like..." She nods her head like she's decided something. "It's _good_ for North America, to see our story." 

"I know. And I meant everything I said on the podcast. I have no regrets." Twyla leans in, and Alexis meets her halfway for a brief, lingering kiss. "None at all."

"Me, either," Alexis says with a shimmy, right as David and Stevie return and set a round of beers on the table. "Totally, like, no regrets about anything."

Their eyes meet, and Twyla smirks in response to Alexis' barely-suppressed laughter. For now, ahead of the storm of this week's episode, she can take pleasure in the lightness she sees in her girlfriend. She finds Alexis' hand underneath the table, and turns her head to focus on David's rant about how any bar worth its salt _has_ to carry Courvoisier.

  


* * *

  


alexis.rose **881.4k** likes  
**alexis.rose** Ain’t I the best you had? 😉✨  
  
**thestavman** lemme double check babe 🔥  
  
**hannahbananaonthebachelor** holy guacamole alexis!!!!  
  
**averywright** 🍯 p ms rose  
  
**twyla.sands** I might've heard something about this on the internet 🧐  
  
**cailinmarsdenz** THIS IS SO GAY 😭 **@tillytheillest** **@scoutandabout** **@jemmasagem** **@teamophelia**  
  
View all 9.1k comments

  


* * *

  


Alexis pushes back the long, heavy curtains that cover the hotel room’s window and beams out over the strip, feeling the familiar, pre-adventure buzz of adrenaline in her blood. “Ladies,” she declares, “we’re about to make this city our bitch.”

Shannon joins her at the window. “In the places the producers say we can go,” she adds. “With the people the producers say we can go with.”

“Shan,” Alexis sighs, disappointed at having her fantasy tugged back into reality. She tilts her head contemplatively as she loops an arm around Shannon’s shoulders. “You know, honestly? That might be a good thing. The last time I was here I got into, like, a _slightly_ sticky situation.” 

“What happened?” Rachel asks from where she’s sitting on one of the double beds. 

“Just a little gambling gone awry,” Alexis says breezily. “Totally not my fault. I mean, don’t bet your family’s heirloom jewels in an underground poker game if you’re not willing to lose them, right?” She looks at Shannon for agreement and gets an amused smile instead. A bit more huffily, she adds, “The whole thing could’ve been pretty hot, honestly, if that Saudi prince would’ve been just a _smidge_ less ragey.” 

She spins around, seeking out Twyla, and finds her bunkmate-turned-bestie perched against the edge of the hotel room’s desk, a smile tucked softly into the corners of her mouth. Alexis half-skips, half-jogs over to her and gathers Twyla into an eager hug. “I’m so happy we’re here!” she cheers quietly. 

Twyla laughs against her shoulder, breath tickling over Alexis’ skin. “I am, too.” 

Alexis pulls back enough to cup Twyla’s face between her palms. “We’re going to have the best time,” she promises. 

“Doing what the producers say we can do when they say we can do it,” Shannon adds again, but there’s a teasing note in her voice this time. 

Alexis flips her hair. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could _definitely_ lose Avery. If I wanted to.” 

“It’s very adorable that you think I haven’t had you microchipped,” Avery says from the doorway; all the hotel room doors have been propped open for the time being so that the camera crew can get some establishing shots. They wink. “Come on. Girl chat time.”

Obediently, Alexis, Twyla, Shannon, and Rachel follow Avery out of the room, through the common area of the suite they’re staying in, and over into the common area of the suite next door, which is also occupied by bachelor contestants. There’s not as much sitting room as there was at the mansion, so they all file in to stand in a semi-circle around the already-occupied furniture, but before she assumes her position, Alexis leans in to whisper to Avery, “As if I can’t remove a microchip.” 

She smiles when they snort a laugh and shimmies her way in between Rachel and Twyla. Madison, seated on a nearby armchair, stage-whispers to Brianna, “Imagine needing to suck up to your producer to get screen time.” 

Alexis can feel Twyla bristling next to her, so she wraps her fingers gently around Twyla’s wrist and gives her head a little shake, scrunching up her nose. Twyla smiles back at her, the tension seeping out of her shoulders. 

Chris Harrison walks into the room, and they all burst into a spontaneous round of applause; Alexis feels strange about it even as she’s clapping. 

“Ladies!” he says, an unnaturally wide grin stretching across his face. “We made it to Vegas! Are we happy to be here?”

They all chorus _yes!_ , combined with a few _woo!_ s and some laughter. 

“Mutt is thrilled to be here with all of you, too,” Chris says. “So let’s get things started, shall we? Here…” He pauses dramatically before pulling an envelope out of his pocket. “Is your date card.” 

As always, he places it on the coffee table before bidding them goodbye, and as always, Verity scans her clipboard before asking someone to read it. “Alexis?” she requests, nodding toward the card. 

Alexis blinks, surprised. It’s her first time being asked to read a date card, and she knows, as they all do, that it’s possible to be asked to read a card with your own name on it - but not particularly likely. 

She walks around the furniture to the front of the room and waits for Verity’s cue to pick up the card. “Brianna,” she reads, and watches as Brianna straightens up and smiles so hard that she nearly glows. “Nicole. Nyra. Ashlynn. Let’s roll the dice on love. Love, Mutt.”

The women whose names were on the card get up and hurry off to get ready. On her way back to her position behind the loveseat, Alexis catches Ashlynn’s eye, smiling and lifting her own eyebrows encouragingly. She slips back in between Twyla and Rachel, and whispers to them, “Think we can sneak away while their date’s going on?”

“ _No_ ,” Rachel says on a soft laugh, sneaking a look toward the producers. Alexis nudges her hip against Twyla’s side a couple times, and Twyla rolls her eyes, but then she laughs, too, ducking her head down as if trying to hide a growing smile. 

Alexis drapes her arms along Rachel and Twyla’s shoulders, letting her arm fold a little across the front of Twyla’s body, laying along her sternum, as she leans in to murmur by Twyla’s ears, “Glad I get you as my lil’ datie again this week.” 

Twyla’s hand ghosts softly against her back as Alexis shifts the angle of her body toward the front of the room again. Zoe - her old producer and Twyla’s current one - is staring right at her, hands clenched around her ever-present clipboard and eyes narrowed. Alexis offers up a slightly baffled smile, and Zoe looks away quickly; she wants to ask Twyla what on earth _that’s_ about, but Chris Harrison is back and Verity’s calling for silence. 

Another date card’s set down, and Shannon’s asked to read it. She says Laila, Kate, Jenna, and Madison’s names, then, “Let’s put on a show. Love, Mutt.”

“Stay here, please,” Verity calls out in her commanding voice after the requisite squealing. “We’re going to do a read of one more.” 

Twyla’s body shifts closer to Alexis’; their thighs, bared by their shorts, are touching, and with her arm still resting across Twyla’s shoulders, Alexis can also feel the curves of Twyla’s hip and breast pressed into her own torso. 

“Do you think it’s a group date?” Twyla asks under her breath. “The next one?”

Alexis can hear the undisguised anxiety in Twyla’s voice, and she starts feeling it thumping in each of her own heartbeats. She drops her arm, securing it around Twyla’s waist instead, her hand tucked firmly against the dip of Twyla’s hip. “I don’t know,” she says, keeping her voice low, too. Twyla’s more familiar with the workings of the franchise than she is, and the fact that she’s asking makes Alexis feel all the more worried. 

She can feel Twyla taking a deep breath. “Alexis, if - ” 

“No _if_ ,” Alexis whispers back as Chris Harrison strides back into the room yet again, as if he hadn’t just repeated the same walk and greeting twice over. 

More urgently and even more softly, Twyla says, “If I don’t get a date this week, I’m definitely - ”

“Twy,” Alexis cuts in, and finds that she’s gritting her teeth. This is the second time she’s been faced with the possibility of Twyla being sent home, and this time the pit that’s opened in her stomach feels even wider, even deeper. 

Verity asks Sarah B. to read the date card. Alexis squeezes Twyla harder as Sarah pulls the card out its envelope, gripping onto the soft cotton of her t-shirt. 

The tiniest frown forms on Sarah’s mouth before she remembers that everyone’s looking at her and plasters on a great big smile. “Twyla,” she says. 

Alexis should feel relieved – she should release the breath she’s holding tight in her chest, soften the death-grip she’s got on Twyla’s shirt and give her best friend a happy hug instead, and celebrate the fact that Twyla’s still got the interest of their mutual boyfriend, that she’s almost guaranteed to be around for another week. But she can’t stop holding on tightly to Twyla, her fingers pressing so hard into Twyla’s hip that they might leave marks behind. 

_Let go_ , she tells herself, but her hand doesn’t move, and Twyla doesn’t try to dislodge her. Time feels strangely slow and syrupy in the hotel suite. 

“Let’s take our relationship to new heights,” Sarah reads off the date card. “Love, Mutt.” 

Everyone turns to look at Twyla, including the cameras, steered by their operators, and Alexis finally manages to drop her hand down to her side. Twyla’s smile is bright, the alleviation of her stress obvious, just the slightest bit of tightness at its corners, probably from having every pair of eyes in the room fixed onto her. 

“Thank you,” she says, reaching forward to accept the card from Sarah. She stares down at it for a beat, then looks up and must catch Zoe in her eyeline, gesturing for more. “I can’t wait,” Twyla says quickly. Zoe is now miming exiting the room, two fingers walking along the surface of her clipboard, and Twyla takes the hint to say her next line: “I’m going to go get ready!” 

As she turns to go, Twyla’s eyes find Alexis’ for just a millisecond, less than a heartbeat. She leaves the room, and Verity tells the rest of them they’re free to go. Sarah, Tennessee, and Nicole are called over by their producers for interviews, and the women whose names were on the second date card gather in a group to speculate over the clue’s meaning. 

Alexis turns toward Rachel, and Shannon and Mita move in closer, too. Shannon is murmuring something to Mita sympathetically, and Rachel looks distressed; they’re both in the position Alexis was just worried about Twyla occupying, not asked on one of the week’s group dates and never having had a one-on-one. 

“Hey,” Alexis says. She loops her arm through Rachel’s, a gesture meant to remind her that they’re all in this together. Then she blinks a few extra times, because her eyes feel like they’re too wide, and presses her free hand to her throat, hoping that it will stop feeling so weird and constricted soon. “We are in _Las Vegas._ ” She tousles her hair, knowing that she always feels better with a little more volume. “And we can do whatever we want!”

“Not _whatever_ we want,” Rachel says, still looking at the floor. 

“Okay, but close!” Alexis says insistently. “D’you know how to play poker, Rach?” 

Rachel looks up at her. “Yeah.”

“Awesome! So who even needs a casino, right?” Alexis looks encouragingly at Shannon and Mita. 

Shannon nods, without even sliding Alexis a skeptical look. “And the pool looks pretty amazing.” 

“And, hello!” Alexis adds, perhaps too loudly. “Bottomless bellinis! We’re going to have a great time. Right?” 

“Right,” Shannon agrees, and with less enthusiasm, Rachel echoes, “Right.” 

After sighing quietly, Mita agrees, “Right.”

Alexis beams at all three of them, smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt.

  


* * *

  


Back in their hotel room, Alexis has changed into a swimsuit and is on the hunt for a pair of sandals she thinks will finish off her outfit nicely when Twyla walks in, opening the door only a bit and slipping in almost like she hopes she won’t be noticed. She looks nervous, even as Shannon rushes over to give her a hug and ask for details. 

“The date’s tomorrow,” Twyla says, pushing her hair back behind both of her ears. “Zoe just wanted me to, um, talk about how excited I am.” 

“Um, of course you are,” Alexis says. “A _Friday_ date? In _Vegas_? Babe, you’re going to have the _best_ time.” 

Twyla looks at her - and then just keeps looking at her. The green of Twyla’s eyes catches the sunlight streaming in through the window and seems to absorb it as they flick up and down Alexis’ body and then up again like it’s impossible for them to settle in one place. There’s a tightness to the corners of her mouth, and Alexis glances down at herself, wondering if she’s the source of the little line etched between Twyla’s eyebrows. The bikini she’s chosen shows more cleavage and more ass than those she’d worn at the mansion, but they’re in _Vegas._ She makes a mental note to remind Twyla what a gorgeous hottie she is in her cute little one pieces, and crosses the room to go give Twyla a hug. 

“I’m so happy for you, Twy,” she says, softly. 

Twyla’s arms wrap around Alexis, and her hands touch Alexis’ back, but they don’t quite settle onto her skin; it’s a hug with no pressure, no returning squeeze. “Thank you,” she says, and Alexis hears her swallow hard before they separate. 

She frowns as she leans away a little, cupping Twyla’s elbows in her hands. “What’s up, babe?” 

Now that Twyla’s eyes have found Alexis’, they’re not darting around anymore. Her gaze is locked right onto Alexis’ as she licks her lips nervously. “Nothing,” she says. When Alexis makes a skeptical sound, Twyla sighs, fingers plucking at the rolled hem on her shorts. She looks past Alexis, toward Rachel, guilt written all over her face. 

Very, very quietly, Twyla says, “I’m so grateful to have this one-on-one time with Mutt. I’m really happy about it. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t even see him again until this week’s cocktail party.”

“He would’ve been so stupid to look you over like that.” 

A helpless smile forms briefly on Twyla’s lips before it vanishes again. “Thanks, Lex. It’s just…” 

Twyla looks so upset that Alexis moves in closer, her hands curling around Twyla’s arms and sliding down until her fingers twine through Twyla’s, as easy as breathing, as natural as gravity. Twyla blinks and looks down, and Alexis squeezes both of her hands in response. “You can tell me anything, Twy,” she murmurs. 

Twyla meets her eyes again. Her skin is even more freckled than it was when Alexis first met her thanks to their time in the L.A. sun. Alexis wonders how many of those freckles have made their appearance in the short time they’ve known each other, wonders how many she touched when applied her favourite mask to Twyla’s face. 

“It’s just what the date card said,” Twyla confesses in that same almost-whisper. “I’m not - I’m not a _heights_ person.” 

“Oh, babe,” Alexis says, looking down at Twyla, who is, admittedly, closer to the ground than Alexis herself is. “I’m sure it won’t be anything too wild.”

“Even un-wild heights aren’t exactly my thing,” Twyla says, looking unnerved. 

Alexis gives Twyla’s hands another solid squeeze. “It’ll be okay. _You’ll_ be okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be…” She scowls slightly, a sour taste in her mouth all of a sudden. “It’ll be _romantic._ ”

The smallest of smiles quirks on Twyla’s face, and she exhales slowly. “Is being terrified romantic?” she asks, skeptically. 

“I mean,” Alexis says. “It totally can be. Like that time I was dating this Danish count, and we got caught in the middle of some very dramatic guerilla warfare in Appenzell. Once we got out of there, it was kind of hot, you know? The kind of sex you have when you thought you were both about to be disappeared is - ”

Twyla’s blinking up at her, eyes full of even more unease now, so Alexis snaps her mouth shut. She runs her thumb along the underside of one of Twyla’s wrists slowly, in a way she hopes is soothing. 

“Babe,” she says, in a softer tone, “I don’t think you need to worry. And the date’s tomorrow, so I _definitely_ don’t think you need to worry today. We’re all going down to the pool. Apparently we’ve got cabanas!” she adds, shimmying for emphasis. She lifts her hand up to Twyla’s cheek, repeating the same slow, soothing stroke of her thumb over the line of Twyla’s jaw, her fingertips resting briefly against Twyla’s neck. “For today,” she says. “Just forget all about it.” 

Twyla’s eyes are still wide, but they’re not flooded with anxiety any more - at least, not entirely. There are other things there, too, softer things that Alexis can’t name, but she takes their presence in the green of Twyla’s irises as a win. 

“Okay, Alexis,” Twyla says quietly. She catches Alexis’ hand in the air when it drops from her cheek and squeezes Alexis’ fingers in a way that seems to mean _thank you_.

  


* * *

  


Down by the pool, Alexis settles in a lounge chair close to the cabana that’s been cordoned off for them. Rachel and Mita are stretched out on a couch inside, a bowl of popcorn between them and a reality show about house-hunting on the television; Shannon took one look at the TV, declared the whole situation “too meta,” and is now in their private float pool. 

Twyla is with Alexis, her own lounge chair pulled halfway into the shade. Stretched out on her stomach, cheek pillowed on her folded hands and squinting in the sun, Alexis watches Twyla rub sunscreen into her legs. One of Alexis’ floppy, wide-brimmed hats is resting on top of Twyla’s head, the one that every Instagram influencer on the planet had a couple years ago, which reads _Resting Beach Face_ in a flouncy font on its rim. It’s kind of an incongruous look on Twyla, and it makes Alexis smile. 

“Do my back?” she asks hopefully. 

Twyla looks up. There’s a beat of silence, like she’s processing what Alexis has asked, and then she says, “Of course.” 

Alexis closes her eyes as Twyla rubs SPF into her back. The sunscreen is a little bit cool compared to Alexis’ skin, and she stifles a shiver as Twyla’s hand presses down along her spine. 

“Mm,” she sighs. “Oh my god, Twy. Are you, like, a secret masseuse or something?” 

“No,” Twyla says on a laugh. Her hand slides tentatively along Alexis’ hip, and then moves more surely, rubbing the sunscreen in. 

“That’s exactly what a secret masseuse would say,” Alexis teases, opening her eyes a little and craning her neck to look back at Twyla. 

“I’m a bad liar,” Twyla says. Her hand moves up across Alexis’ shoulder blades, and then onto the back of her neck, and Alexis settles her head down again, enjoying the just-right pressure of Twyla’s fingers. “I wouldn’t be a good secret _anything_.” 

Alexis waits until Twyla’s finished applying sunscreen to her skin, and then props herself up on her elbows. Twyla’s eyes drop briefly to her chest, to the deep scoop of her bikini top, which shows off the little cleavage Alexis has. Alexis glances down, too, in case she’s accidentally showing nipple. She’s not, and when she looks up again, Twyla is back on her own lounge chair. 

“D’you ever think you underestimate yourself, Twy?” she asks, gently. 

Twyla looks a little taken aback by the question. “I - ” she says, then, “I don’t know. Maybe, sometimes.” 

“I mean.” Alexis props her chin up in one of her hands. “This is a bad example, I guess, because probably lying isn’t something _good_ to be good at. But I think there’s a whole lot you can do, Twyla.” 

Stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles, Twyla says, “That’s sweet of you to say, Lex.” 

“Okay,” Alexis says. “Okay, sure, but I _mean_ it, Twy. You know that, yeah? You’re, like, the sweetest, but you’re also a _boss_.” 

One of Twyla’s eyebrows lifts, but she’s smiling now, warmly, like she’s finding Alexis charming. “I’m a waitress,” she corrects. “And I love my job, so I’m not - ”

“No,” Alexis interrupts, reaching over. She can’t quite reach Twyla’s leg, so she rests her hand against the edge of Twyla’s chair. “No, I don’t mean you’re, like, a literal CEO. I mean you’re a _boss_. That’s a mindset. Like, a vibe.” 

Both of Twyla’s eyebrows are high on her forehead now. “You think I have a _boss vibe_?” 

“Yes,” Alexis says firmly, then pulls her arm back, folds both arms in front of herself, and lays her head down again, unwilling to hear any arguments to the contrary. “You know how you, like, saw me, Twy? With all that Libra stuff? I see you, too. I see your vibe.” 

She has her eyes closed now, against the glare of the sun, but she could swear that she can _feel_ the way Twyla’s still smiling. Twyla’s toe bumps against her hip, a fond poke, and Alexis reaches down blindly to grab her foot. Twyla evades her grasp, but she giggles, and Alexis cracks her eyes open, grinning back. 

Hand shading her eyes as she looks around, Twyla muses, “I never thought I’d be in a place like this. It’s surreal. All of it.” 

“If you really wanted surreal, we should’ve gone to the nude pool,” Alexis says, but she softens her smile to make sure Twyla knows Alexis is hearing what she’s really saying. 

Twyla rolls her eyes, but her swimsuit bares enough skin that Alexis can see the flush spreading along her chest and creeping up her neck. 

“It is weird,” Alexis agrees, generously deciding not to try to see how red she can get Twyla to turn. “It’s like when you’re dating a guy, but it’s not exclusive, and you know he’s seeing, like, at _least_ six other girls. Only you’re also roommates with all the other girls and you have to spend all day everyday together, and see each other right after your dates.” 

“ _Six_ other girls?” 

Alexis nods seriously. “At least. But don’t worry, babe.” She attempts to wink at Twyla, but it’s tough, with one of her cheeks pressed against her folded arms and the sun in her eyes. “I had a guy for every day of the week, too.” 

Twyla laughs on an exhale, a slightly incredulous sound, but not an unkind one. “That sounds…” She shakes her head and pushes the rim of her hat up so that she can see Alexis more easily. “Exhausting. Some days after work I just want… silence, and to read a chapter of a good book, and to go to sleep.” 

Alexis nods again, her smile more subdued. Sometimes her work exhausts her: early call times for photoshoots, lengthy meetings with up-and-coming brands that haven’t quite figured out their messaging, long flights with no time for sleep after she lands. But she doesn’t have a job like Twyla’s, one that requires eight hours of being on her feet, of patient smiles, and of balancing acts and spill-free pours, five or even _seven_ days a week. “Well, you deserve that, babe,” she says. 

She watches as Twyla draws one knee up toward her chest, and stares for an instant at the prettily-freckled skin of Twyla’s thigh, the slight flexing in her hamstrings. Her focus is only pulled when Twyla says, “I’ve never dated more than one person at once.” 

“Really?” Alexis asks. It doesn’t entirely surprise her, given what she’s learned about Twyla, but still - she’s pretty sure that if they weren’t separated from the pool’s other patrons, there’d be people lined up for the chance to bask in Twyla’s smile. 

“I’m from a small town,” Twyla reminds her. “The… dating pool’s small. And I guess I’ve just…” Her brows crease, and her eyes drop down. Slowly, she says, “I guess I’ve never been interested in more than one person at once.” 

“Monogamy can be totally hot.” 

Twyla laughs. “I’ve been happy,” she says with a little shrug. “I was with my high school boyfriend for eight months, and my ex-girlfriend and I were together for… I guess two or three years, if you add it all up.”

Alexis’ heart feels like it’s forgotten how to beat. She sucks in a breath, and it starts again. Propping her elbows up beneath her, she gives Twyla every single shred of her attention. “Ex-girlfriend?” 

“Yeah.” Twyla’s eyes find her, shiny in the sun. Her expression is open, absolutely honest. “I’m queer.” 

Alexis chews the inside of her lower lip. “Like… bi? Or pan?” 

Twyla shifts on her chair. “Pan,” she says, “if I had to pick. But it doesn’t feel exactly right for me. I prefer queer.” 

“Cool,” Alexis says, and then immediately hates herself. 

Twyla just smiles at her, though. “I feel pretty _cool_ about it, yeah.” 

Alexis laughs, ducking her head and studying the stitching on the cushion on her chair for a moment. She bends her legs at the knees, feet in the air behind her, and crosses her ankles. “Can I, um.” She looks up at Twyla again. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure, Lex.” 

At the nickname, Alexis relaxes a bit more, losing some of the tension in her shoulders. “My brother’s pan. He says he’s known that about himself… forever, basically, even when he didn’t have a word for it. Is that… how you feel? About being queer?” 

Twyla thinks for a few seconds, and Alexis watches her face, noting the barely-there narrowing of Twyla’s eyes and the way her mouth pulls to the left. “Not exactly,” Twyla says. “Yes _and_ no, I guess? I didn’t always know it; I think even _think_ about it until the first time I realized I had feelings for someone who… wasn’t a boy.” She laughs lightly. “And when I realized that _that_ was what was happening, that I had feelings, that I had a crush, I looked back on other feelings in other friendships and other situations and realized that I’d had those feelings before. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Alexis says, because it does. “Thank you, Twy, for telling me. You’re my best friend here.” _And possibly everywhere_ , she refrains from adding. 

“You’re mine, too,” Twyla says, smile so full and bright that Alexis’ chest feels fluttery.

  


* * *

  


“What do we think?” Alexis asks, hands clasped against her chest, inching back a little so that she can get the full effect of Twyla in the latest dress Alexis has managed to convince her to try on for the evening portion of her date with Mutt. 

“I’m really not sure,” Twyla says, tugging at the strapless neckline like she’s worried the dress is going to fall off of her. 

From where she’s sitting cross-legged on one of the double beds, Shannon offers, “I think neon might be more of an Alexis thing than a Twyla thing.” 

Alexis blinks, both at Shannon’s assessment and at Twyla’s reaction to it, which is to throw a grateful look in Shannon’s direction. “Okay.” She puts her hands on her hips. “This is not _neon_? This blue is _electric_.” Dropping her hands, she adds, “But I want you to be comfortable, Twy.” 

“It’s a gorgeous dress,” Twyla says, somewhat apologetically, struggling to reach around herself for the zipper. “I’m sure it looks amazing on you.” 

Alexis moves closer again, batting at Twyla’s hands, spinning her around, and undoing the zipper for her. “Well, we need to find what looks amazing on _you_ ,” she says as the dress falls to the floor, leaving Twyla in her strapless bra and panties. 

“That’s not the underwear you’re wearing, right?” Shannon asks, popping one of the chocolate-covered almonds she found in the minibar into her mouth. 

“No,” Twyla says. “But Mutt’s not going to see my underwear.” 

“Not with that attitude,” Shannon teases. 

“Not with all the _cameras_ ,” Twyla shoots back. 

“And it’s basically their first date,” Rachel pipes up from where she’s sitting near the head of the bed, nestled amid the pillows. 

Alexis hands Twyla the next dress from the pile of her selections. “Nobody ever sees your undies on a first date, Rach?” she asks, winking at Rachel, who flushes in response. 

Twyla doesn’t move to put on the dress she’s holding. “This is… sparkly.” 

“ _Try_ it, Twy,” Alexis says. “We’re in Vegas, remember?” She takes the dress back, unzips it, and gestures for Twyla to lift her arms so that Alexis can slip the dress on over her head. 

Twyla cooperates, and lets Alexis adjust the hem against her thighs and the straps against her shoulders. Still, when she says, “Lex…” the doubt in her voice is clear.

“You look… wow,” Rachel says. 

“You really do,” Shannon agrees, eating another almond. 

Alexis gives Twyla a pair of cute, strappy heels and holds Twyla’s hand to offer balance as she steps into them. Rachel and Shannon are both nodding approvingly, so she steers Twyla to the bathroom, where there’s a full-length mirror. “Check you out, babe,” she says, positioning Twyla in front of the mirror, hands on Twyla’s shoulders. 

Twyla touches the low, square neckline of the dress, and swivels to look at herself from another angle. The dress is backless; Alexis touches the band of Twyla’s bra lightly and proposes, “Let’s get rid of this, yeah? For the full effect?” She shimmies. 

When Twyla nods, Alexis unhooks her bra, and Twyla tugs it out from beneath the dress. She gnaws on her bottom lip, tugging at the hem of the dress - even though it’s longer on her than it is on Alexis - and running her fingers along the iridescent pattern of sequins. 

“Your ass looks _bomb_ ,” Alexis tells her. 

Looking at herself from the side, now, Twyla still looks concerned. She gestures to the amount of side boob the dress is displaying. “Isn’t this too much?” 

“Um, _no_ ,” Alexis says. “As long as you feel good, it is _not_ too much. You are _such_ a hottie, Twyla. And you can adjust this a little - ” 

She steps in front of Twyla, facing her, and gently adjusts the neckline and the front panel of the dress in a way she thinks will help Twyla feel like her cleavage is more securely covered. “Mutt’s jaw will hit the floor,” she says confidently. 

She reaches around Twyla to tighten the single skinny strap across the middle of her back, and Twyla jolts a little when Alexis’ hand brushes against the exposed side of her breast. Alexis feels herself sort of jolt in return, but instead of putting any distance between their bodies, Twyla leans in just a bit closer, so that Alexis can more easily reach the strap on her back. 

To make sure the strap’s adequately tightened, Alexis slips too fingers beneath it, testing that it’s not too loose or too snug. Apparently startled by the gesture and a little unsteady in her heels, Twyla stumbles slightly, one of her hands landing on Alexis’ arm and the other on Alexis’ hip. She exhales hard, and Alexis’ fingers slide out from beneath the strap, both her hands coming to rest on Twyla’s bare back, skin on skin, her fingers splayed wide. 

“You okay?” she murmurs. 

Twyla nods. Alexis’ hands slip down a little, settling into the small of Twyla’s back, and Twyla gives the smallest, involuntary shiver, like maybe Alexis’ fingers are cold. She looks down and says, “These shoes are too big.” 

Alexis nods, looking down at Twyla’s feet, too. “You’ll have to wear your own.”

“Yeah.” Twyla looks up. With her head tilted back, and Alexis’ still dipped down, their faces are very close. Alexis takes in the tiny flake of mascara beneath one of Twyla’s eyes, and the hint of a sunburn on the tip of her nose, before her gaze settles on Twyla’s mouth, lips pink and glistening with gloss. Those lips part the barest amount, then press back together. 

“D’you feel good?” Alexis asks, thumbs running idly up and down against Twyla’s hips. “In this dress?” 

“Yes,” Twyla says. Her chin tilts up just a touch further. 

“Good.” Alexis lifts a hand to touch her hair, twirling a lock around her finger. “We can curl your hair… pin some of it back…” 

“Okay,” Twyla agrees. 

“Okay,” Alexis echoes, and she catches herself leaning down even more, as if drawn by a magnetic force. Her nose has almost brushed against Twyla’s when she realizes what’s happening, and she pulls back quickly, straightening up. She uses one hand to tousle her hair, an old sometimes-nervous habit, but leaves the other against Twyla’s hip in case she’s still feeling wobbly. 

She draws a slow breath and smiles down at Twyla. “This is _totally_ the look, Twy. Wanna, um, get changed? And then we can do a makeup test run.” 

“Sure,” Twyla says softly. 

“Perfect!” Alexis chirps, and boops Twyla on the nose. She turns before Twyla can look at her any longer with those keen, beautiful eyes that seem to _see_ her, and leads the way out of the bathroom. 

“What were you _doing_ in there?” Rachel asks. 

Alexis shimmies, shakes out her hair, and gives Rachel what she feels is a very confident and convincing wink, considering the circumstances. “You can’t rush perfection, babe,” she says.

  


* * *

  


Twyla skips out on drinks and dancing with the other women in the suite’s common area to go to bed early, and Alexis joins her. No one seems surprised by her choice or tries to persuade her to stay; all of Mutt’s other girlfriends appear to understand that she and Twyla function as a package deal. One of the camera operators does follow them back to their hotel room - Alexis figures they probably want footage of Twyla talking about her pre-date excitement. 

They don’t give that to the camera, though. There’s no prompting producer present, and Twyla doesn’t bring up the date, so Alexis follows her lead and doesn’t do so either. They take off their makeup together in the bathroom, and Alexis gives Twyla a set of under-eye masks. Twyla applies them while Alexis brushes her teeth, and she ends up going a little hard on her gums as she watches Twyla study herself in the mirror. She meets Twyla’s eyes in the reflection, and somehow she just _knows_ , from the little quirk of Twyla’s mouth, that Twyla’s still nervous but that she doesn’t want to talk about it, not right at that moment, not while the camerawoman is standing in the doorway, waiting for them to forget she’s there. 

“Ever used a tongue scraper, Twy?” she asks. 

Twyla turns toward her, frowning like she thinks she must’ve misheard Alexis. “What?”

“Have you ever used a tongue scraper?” Alexis gives her lashes a little flicker in what she hopes serves as a gesture toward the camera. “Oral hygiene is, like, _so_ important, don’t you think?” 

Twyla looks down at her toothbrush as she squeezes toothpaste onto it, lips pressed tight together as she fights against a smile. “ _So_ important,” she agrees, mimicking Alexis’ tone. “Have you ever used a water flosser?” 

The boom guy heaves a sigh, and the camera operator shushes him. Twyla giggles and quickly sticks her toothbrush in her mouth.

  


* * *

  


In bed, the thick hotel curtains drawn and the room dark, Twyla tosses and turns. There’s not a ton of space between them in the double bed, and the mattress jostles beneath Alexis when Twyla shifts. 

She reaches out and runs her hand along Twyla’s arm. “It’s gonna be okay, babe.” 

Twyla sighs and rolls over to face her. “Yeah. I know it… probably will.”

“It _definitely_ will. Everyone’s going to make sure that cute butt of yours stays nice and safe.” 

Twyla laughs at that, and Alexis’ heart swells with warmth. “Just my butt?” 

“And your cute face. Your cute legs. Your cute everything.” 

Nodding a little, Twyla curls her legs up, her knees bumping Alexis’ as they settle into mirrored positions. “They probably wouldn’t let me fall to my death on prime time TV.” 

“No chance,” Alexis says. “I had to jump out of a plane with a shoddy parachute outside of Tripoli once, and I was _totally_ fine.”

Twyla’s quiet for a moment, apparently digesting that piece of information. “I’m glad you are,” she finally says. “You’re - you’ve done a lot. I feel like you’ve lived about twelve more lifetimes than I have.” 

“Nah,” Alexis says. She pushes a lock of Twyla’s hair out of her face, and then combs her fingers through the soft strands of Twyla’s hair before settling her fingertips against Twyla’s scalp and massaging in the gentle circles she finds most soothing herself. “Everybody’s got all kinds of lives inside of them. Mine are just… big.” Twyla’s head tips back a little, leaning into Alexis’ touch, and her eyelids drop. “You’re going to have a great date, Twy. I know it.” She rubs along the nape of Twyla’s neck with a little more pressure, easing away tightness. “Maybe you’ll even fall in love tomorrow.” 

Eyes open again, Twyla whispers, “You think so?” 

“Anything’s possible, babe. You could get out there and live big tomorrow.” Alexis licks her lips, noticing that her mouth feels very dry. “If you wanna roll over, I can rub your back.” 

Twyla pulls her leg up a little higher, her foot brushing along Alexis’ calf. “That’s okay. I’ll - I can fall asleep.”

“Okay,” Alexis says. She rubs Twyla’s shoulder for an extra moment, then pulls her hand back toward her own body and shifts onto her back. She’s the kind of person who likes to sprawl out on a bed, to take up the whole mattress, but she tries to keep her limbs on her side. 

Twyla murmurs a goodnight and her breathing evens out slowly, punctured only be one soft, sleepy sigh as she rolls over onto her stomach, her arm pressing into Alexis’. 

Looking up at the ceiling, Alexis can feel each of Twyla’s deep breaths in her own body. It takes her a very long time to fall asleep.

  


* * *

  


Before Twyla leaves in the morning, Alexis reminds her to use a lipliner with the lipstick they’d chosen for her evening look, and to touch up her t-zone. Twyla nods along, eyes so serious and tuned in to every word Alexis says. 

“And remember that you are a _hottie_ ,” Alexis adds. “And that you are an _amazing_ person who deserves to be treated _amazingly_ and that you will accept _nothing_ less. And remember to, like, be open or whatever. And you’re _brave_ , Twy, okay? You can do hard things.” 

“Thank you, Lex,” Twyla says. She drops the bag containing her makeup and shoes for the evening portion of the date and wraps both her arms around Alexis’ waist. Alexis hugs her back tightly, pressing her nose into Twyla’s hair. She’s become familiar enough with the lingering lavender scent of Twyla’s shampoo that it’s a comfort, to breathe it in as she holds Twyla close. 

“Have the best time, babe,” Alexis murmurs to her. She almost kisses the side of Twyla’s head, out of some sort of strange, mixed-up instinct, but catches herself before she goes through with it. 

Twyla nods, taking a deep breath as they pull apart. She grabs one of Alexis’ hands and squeezes it quickly. “See you on the other side.” 

Alexis shoos her along to where Zoe’s waiting. “Go knock him out!” 

Twyla exits the room with Zoe, and Alexis is left alone; Rachel and Shannon are eating a late breakfast out in the main part of the suite. She presses a hand to the back of her neck as she looks down at the floor, breathing in slowly as she swallows against the lump that’s taken up residence in her throat. 

She tries to shake off the feeling, crossing over to the dresser, where she’s left a small collection of her jewellery. She’s already had a one-on-one date with Mutt - she has no right to feel like this right now, jealous and all tangled up inside. 

She picks up her _A_ necklace, undoes the clasp, and slips it beneath her hair at the nape of her neck to fasten it. As she’s doing so, Avery pokes their head into the room. 

“Hey,” they say. “Need you out in the living room. We’re doing girl chat.” 

Alexis frowns faintly, picking up another necklace to create a cute layered look. “I thought we already got all the date cards.” 

Avery hesitates, just barely, before telling her, “We need all your reactions to Twyla being on the one-on-one.” 

“Ew,” Alexis says, wrinkling her nose. 

Avery doesn’t say anything to that, just tilts their head toward the door, a silent cue that Alexis should follow them. 

“I don’t get, like, the point?” Alexis says, planting her hands on her hips. “There’s nothing to say. Of course Mutt picked Twy; she’s the total package. Literally what else could he want in a wife. So how can any of us be, like… mad about it?” 

“Being mad about it is what makes good TV.” 

“Okay, well, I’m not going to do that. And I’m not even feeling that great. I think I might be getting a migraine. So can I sit this one out?” 

“No dice,” Avery says, shaking their head. 

Alexis waves her hands through the air, incredulous. “ _Seriously_ , Ave?” 

“I’m sorry, babe,” Avery says, and they do genuinely sound apologetic. “You’ve got to do this. Shouldn’t be longer than thirty. And then you can take a nap, or do... whatever else you need to do. We can talk, if you want.” 

With a scowl, Alexis crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Why would I want to talk? I just told you, I have nothing to say.” 

“Okay,” Avery says, in a tone so carefully neutral it makes Alexis want to scream. “Ready to go? The sooner we do this, the sooner it’s over.”

“Fine,” Alexis huffs, and she stalks past Avery out of the room, lump still firmly lodged in her throat.

  


* * *

  


Tennessee 🍀  
  
Hey 🙂 How're you two holding up?  
  
Hi! We're good  
  
What about you guys? How's Mutt?  
  
We're doing pretty well  
  
I'm visiting Mutt in a week  
  
That's so exciting! I hope you have a great time ❤️  
  
Thank you Twyla  
  
😘  
  
🥰  
  
I talked to Alexis earlier. She seemed kind of stressed  
  
Yeah  
  
It's kind of been a lot for her, you know? She already had a lot of trolls  
  
It's gotten worse in some ways  
  
Plus there's so much attention  
  
Yeah I know what you mean  
  
This has all been so much  
  
Mutt is always doing interviews and press   
  
Do you actually watch the show back? Either of you?  
  
Sometimes  
  
Only together though on video chat   
  
Which is actually part of why I wanted to reach out, Mutt and I talked about your date that's gonna air   
  
I wanted you to know I'm totally cool with it  
  
Oh! Okay  
  
That's good  
  
Since I'm in love with Alexis and Mutt is in love with you  
  
Exactly 🤪  
  
It's not the funnest experience but   
  
I don't think I'd trade signing up for anything else in the world  
  
Me too  
  
We all ended up exactly where we're supposed to be  
  
❤️  
  


  


* * *

  


The Stratosphere is immense – "Almost 1200 feet," Zoe says cheerily, from where she's seated next to Twyla in the backseat – and visible as soon as her town car had left The Mirage. Twyla runs her hand over her knee and the athleisure leggings Alexis had lent her, and tries to focus on the wrinkle her fingertips smooth out in the fabric instead of her near, imminent death.

Zoe's saying something, but all Twyla can hear is her blood thumping in her ears. "Sorry," she says; her voice sounds odd to her own ears, almost distant, like her fear's causing her to disassociate from her body. "What did you say?"

"Just take a deep breath, Twyla." The look Zoe gives her is almost a little bit sympathetic. Twyla had made the mistake of mentioning her fear of heights to her producer during her first week on the show, and she's sure they talk. "And try to have fun."

In lieu of a laugh, a choked sort of sound escapes Twyla's throat. "Have _you_ ever done something like this, Zoe?"

Her producer shakes her head. "No, but – it sounds fun."

"Thanks," Twyla says. "Thanks a lot." 

She tilts her head back against the car's headrest, then closes her eyes, trying to focus on all of the yoga breathing practices that she's ever learned and practiced. She repeats Alexis' parting words in her mind, and by the time they're pulling up to The Stratosphere, she feels like she can at least feign a little bit of calm. 

Mutt's standing in front of the shining glass doors, clad in joggers and a light blue shirt that hugs his muscles. The bulk of the tower is hidden from sight, now that they're right at it, and Mutt's smile, visible even through the car windows, is almost enough for Twyla to forget what they're supposed to do here after she gets out of the car.

"Jump on him," Zoe says, leaning over Twyla to unlock and open the door. "And good luck." 

It's an odd thing to say, but Twyla's seen enough seasons of _The Bachelor_ to understand what Zoe means. And when she steps out of the car and comes face-to-face with Mutt, his smile broadening as their eyes meet, she has no problem obeying. He catches her easily in his arms as her legs wrap around his waist, and he buries his face in her neck.

"It's so good to see you," Mutt says once she's back down on the ground. His hands are on her waist, and she places hers on his biceps, tracing them with her fingertips. She's spent time with him at cocktail parties and rose ceremonies, but now she gets a whole day with him. 

"You, too." Twyla beams up at him, then leans in for another hug before she even knows it's happening. 

He laughs, pulling her tightly against him, and then he bends down to kiss her. It's brief, just the barest of moments, but it lingers on her lips as he drapes an arm around her shoulders and, following the producers' gestures, starts to guide her into The Stratosphere.

"I have a pretty crazy date planned for us today." Twyla's not entirely sure if _Mutt's_ the one who organized the date, but she chooses to look quietly up at his face as he speaks, rather than inquire. "How do you feel about… heights?"

She can't help the grimace that shifts onto her face, and she isn't sure if it's due to the smell of smoke, her memories of the last time she was in a casino with her extended family, the allusion of just how tall The Stratosphere is, or all of the above. Mutt's face is kind and gentle, though, and he rubs his thumb over her shoulder as they come to a stop on the casino floor. 

"I don't love heights," Twyla says, aware of the cameras watching them and choosing her words appropriately. She moves her arm around his waist, and tries to imagine a world in which he's her husband. "But I trust you." 

The look in his eyes is almost apologetic, like he wants to say something else but can't. She wishes they could speak freely to each other, like the girls do when they're alone together, but as much as Zoe tries to guide and coax her into doing and saying certain things, she's sure the pressure's even greater for Mutt.

"You'll be safe with me," he says after a moment. There's a softness in his expression, something she's never seen on him before, and she wonders if he's looked at any of the other women this way. 

She takes a deep breath, and finds that when she's looking up at him, a little bit of her nervousness releases when she lets it go. "I trust you," she says again, and he smiles.

"Good," he says, squeezing her shoulder. "Let's go."

  


* * *

  


It's a freefall from the top, more or less, until the controlled landing kicks in. Twyla doesn't know enough to understand the difference between that and a bungee jump, but she's too sick with anxiety to care. 

Mutt kisses her forehead, then her temple, then her nose, then mouths something to her that she can't fully hear over the wind. It's loud, up as high as they are, and cold. She clings to his waist as they get strapped in together, suddenly fearful that they'll be blown off the top of The Stratosphere.

"You're sure?" Mutt yells, once they're approaching the edge. He squeezes her shoulders, and leans his helmet against hers. 

It's her final chance to back out. But she hears Alexis' voice in her head telling her that she can do hard things, and she doesn't want to prove her wrong. So she swallows hard, grips tightly to Mutt, and nods, her teeth chattering slightly as they listen to their final instructions and take the plunge. 

In a matter of seconds, it's all over. When they land on the big, squishy landing pad, she's so elated to be back on solid ground that she almost sees stars. She's clinging to Mutt even tighter than she had when they were in the air, free-falling together, and her throat's raw from screaming, but she can't stop laughing. She's never felt like this before, so euphoric and powerful, like she could do anything she puts her mind towards, and the high of it is almost enough for her to suggest they do it again.

"We did it!" Mutt grins at her, and places a hand on her helmet, smoothing his thumb over her ear, then her cheekbone, wherever he can reach her. They're still tethered together, arms around each other, and Mutt's lips are on hers before she even realizes it. She's still laughing as he deepens the kiss, and then he's laughing, too, and she can't fucking wait to tell Alexis that she actually _did it_. 

She cups his cheek with her hand, fingertips in his beard and their legs intertwined, and almost forgets that she's afraid of heights now that she's become this new person, the kind of woman who can look her fears in the eye and go for it anyway – someone like Alexis, who'd helped her get up the nerve to do just that.

He kisses her again, then pulls away so they can get up and start getting out of their harnesses. He looks so goofy in his helmet, his safety suit riding up like hers is, and her heart swells as she looks back at him. 

"How are we going to top that?" she asks, and he laughs again, then takes her hand in his once they're back on their own two feet. They're no longer tied together, but he pulls her in against him like the last few minutes apart were too much to bear.

"I have a couple of ideas," he says. As she leans up to kiss him again, she can see the cameras turn to focus on them.

  


* * *

  


Zoe zips Alexis' dress up for Twyla, then circles around her to bestow Twyla with the gift of her intense, focused scrutiny. Twyla straightens out the hem, looking at Zoe with trepidation, but Zoe simply nods.

"Nice," she says, a hint of a smile on her face, then leaves her alone to finish the rest of her evening look.

Twyla's admittedly grateful to have a moment to herself. The day's one big event after another, and her energy's already starting to flag. But there's dinner soon, the most important part of the evening, and her fate in the competition hangs on whether she can charm Mutt long enough for him to offer her the evening's rose. 

She surveys the makeup Alexis lent her, the dark lip and eyeliner and mascara, and the various powders and brushes she's mostly-certain she remembers how to use, and tries to remember Alexis in front of her, fingers on her skin and her lips, sketching and shading the features of her face. 

Twyla has never worn this much makeup before. Jocelyn had taught her how to apply it when she was younger, but Jocelyn preferred a heavier hand and a certain aesthetic that never fully worked for Twyla. Alexis has shown her how to contour, where to use a highlighter and how to blend, and had vehemently, almost angrily told her to never even think about concealing her freckles. 

Once she's finished, Twyla looks in the mirror and is surprised to see that the version of herself she sees there, blinking back, still feels like _her_ , that with Alexis and Mutt's help, she can be this free-falling, risk-taking woman in a tight, shimmering dress, worthy of attention and love. Her ass _does_ look bomb, she thinks, turning to the side so she can study it, and she's relieved to see that when she smiles at herself, she recognizes the expression in the mirror.

  


* * *

  


Dinner dates on _The Bachelor_ have always been something of a mystery to Twyla; the contestants and leads have never been shown eating on the show, and plates of food remain untouched on the tables between them. She eats alone, under Zoe's watchful eye, then is escorted by the staff to a secluded table, where Mutt stands to greet her as she approaches.

"Hi," he says with a smile, amusement in his eyes, like they haven't spent most of the day together already. She can feel his gaze look her up and down, then again, and she knows she's blushing. His rapt attention, looking at her like she's the most fascinating woman he's ever seen, sends a shiver down her spine. 

After a tight hug and a lingering kiss, Mutt takes one of his hands in hers once they've sat down together. "So," he says, punctuating it with a quick smile, almost as though to apologize for the staged-yet-real conversation they're about to have. "That was pretty crazy today, right?"

"Only a little bit," Twyla says. She likes the way his laughter sounds against hers. "It was… I mean, it was kind of really awesome." She smiles, ducking her head slightly, then adds, "But I think that's because I've blocked out all of the fear."

"Oh, yeah. The mind does that." Mutt runs his thumb over the back of her hand. "We get high on the adventure and forget the rest, so we want to keep chasing it." 

"I've never really been that kind of person." Twyla's pretty sure Mutt could've guessed that about her already, but it still feels vulnerable, admitting that aloud. "This whole thing…" She pauses, then corrects herself for the cameras. "This _journey_ , it's the first big adventure I've ever taken." 

He's so focused, so intent on her. "What made you decide to do it?" 

"You," she says truthfully, meeting his eyes and tightening her hold on his hand. "I wanted to meet you, and to see if we could be something together." 

"I think we could." He smiles again. "And I'm honoured that you felt that way about me." He lifts his other hand and rubs at the back of his head, like he's as embarrassed by her attention as she is by his. "What… If you don't mind me asking. What made you feel that way?"

She almost laughs. It's something so surreal, something she isn't sure he'd ever ask if it weren't for this show and certainly something she wouldn't otherwise answer out loud. 

"I thought I could understand you," she says after a moment, and his face softens underneath his beard. "If we got to meet each other, and share our stories with one another. I've kind of always been a loner too, I guess. It's mostly just my best friend, Stevie, and me. I didn't really… I didn't grow up with a lot, so I had to make do." 

"Yeah," Mutt says, looking thoughtful. "Me, too. I didn't really realize we didn't have a lot, growing up. My parents were good about that. But looking back on it… Yeah."

Twyla gives him a quiet smile, but her gaze drops down to the tablecloth before she forces it back up. She's made her peace with her absent parents, but the contrast still smarts before she resolves to let it go.

"You told me that not everyone gets the small town thing when we met," she says. His hands have settled on her knees, just below her dress, without her realizing it. "And I think… we probably have a lot of shared values because of that, you know? We don't take certain things for granted."

" _Yeah_." Mutt's eyes light up. "That's how I got into the outdoors. It's free, or relatively cheap, and we could do it as a family."

"I _love_ that." Twyla smiles, embarrassed; she hadn't meant to say it, but _Bachelor_ -speak is contagious. "But I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

She leans in, like she's got a big, damning secret to share, and he draws closer, too. "I haven't really done a lot of outdoors stuff. There's a creek where I grew up, so I've spent time there, but I haven't done any of the places people are supposed to have experienced by now." 

His fingertips dig into her thighs when he laughs. "Then I'll take you to them. We'll have an adventure together across the continent, just you and me."

It's sweet, and it's romantic, but it's also so similar to what Alexis had promised her, two weeks ago, and now that Alexis is in her head again, Twyla can't get her out. She looks down at the dress she's wearing, black and silver sparkles all over her skin and underneath his palms as his hands move higher up, and for a moment she sees Alexis' hands on her too, adjusting the fabric and smoothing it out. 

And then suddenly he's pulling away, turning to face the table again. There's a brief flurry of panic – had she given herself away somehow? – but then Mutt's picking up the rose and holding it out to her. 

"Twyla." His eyes crinkle at their corners with the force of his smile. "I love that we really just get each other. And I've had such an amazing day with you. I'm excited to see where we go from here. Will you accept this rose?"

"Yes." She leans in for a kiss he readily gives, and tries to think of just him as she closes her eyes.

  


* * *

  


"There's one more surprise," Mutt says, once they've finished their dinner conversation.

He holds his hand out for her to take, and after she's handed her one-on-one rose to a producer for safe-keeping, they round a corner and pass a large, waving bouncer. Mutt presses a button to call an elevator, and Twyla inspects the posters all over the room, and the DJs and large throngs of partiers depicted within. She tilts her head, studying them as she suspects aliens would look at Earth: _How odd. What are they doing?_

"Are we going dancing?" she asks. Twyla's not opposed to it, by any means; she loves music, and dancing has always been a natural extension of that. But she's never been to a place like this before, and she can only imagine what it's like. 

She can already hear the music from upstairs, even in the elevator, and she smiles as she notices how nervous Mutt looks as he nods. "This scares me more than jumping off that building," he admits, his expression wry. "But, you know." He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, and his face softens into a smile as she beams up at him. "What happens in Vegas…"

"Stays in Vegas," Twyla finishes. The elevator doors open into a long, dimly-lit corridor, and Mutt loosens his tie with his free hand as they head towards two big double doors. Impulsively, excitedly, she tugs on his hand before they fully enter the club, and he comes to a stop next to her. 

"Thank you for choosing me for this date, Mutt." She eases his blazer off of his shoulders, hazarding a guess and pleased by the grateful smile he gives her, and drapes it over her arm. "I really – I've loved spending time with you today." 

"Me, too." His eyes are intent, focused just on her. "This has been really great, Twyla." 

The doors open ahead of them, and suddenly there are cheers from the amassed people in the club. She laughs, unable to help herself, startled by the vast size of the crowd even though she's seen dozens of seasons of _The Bachelor_ and know how these public dates play out. But Mutt's just a man, even if he's a really handsome, famous man, and she's just a woman lucky enough to be on this date with him, one of fifteen still left competing for his love. It's all so surreal, and she's briefly overwhelmed with the force of it all before she pulls herself out of it and back into the moment.

Mutt gives his blazer and tie to a producer and takes her hand, then leads her through the cheering crowd. There's a DJ playing in the center of the dance floor, and they come to a stop at a little, roped-off area right in front of him. The music's so loud, Twyla thinks she can feel it thrumming through her body. It wakes her up, energizes her with a kind of possibility she isn't sure she's felt before, and she doesn't even need the drink a producer offers to them both before ducking away.

"Do you know how to dance?" she asks once they're 'alone' again, hazarding a guess. 

"I can kind of..." He nods his head more-or-less to the beat, then bends his knees to speak right into her ear. "You're gonna have to teach me." 

It's easy to forget about the cameras when Mutt moves closer to her. She slips a leg between his and places her hands on his hips, coaxing them to move the way she wants them to, then wraps her arms around his neck once she's satisfied. 

"Don't think too much about it," she suggests, loving how she can feel his chest move when he laughs. "You just have to... Feel it. You know what I mean?"

He nods, the flash of his eyes bright even in the dim lighting of the club, and the crowd swells around them as they start to move together.

  


* * *

  


They find their way outside onto the club's rooftop once their ears start to ring. It's been cordoned off for them, and they wander past the empty pools together, marveling at the luxury of their surroundings. 

She knows enough about Mutt now to understand that he's as out of his comfort zone as she is. She's learned that he's more of a renegade than she is, and how he'd be happy if he lived in a van in the woods. Of course, with Canadian winters being what they are, she hopes he'd at least consider somewhere with four walls and a roof for at least part of the year, but that's a discussion they can have on their next date.

"This is all a little..." He raises his eyebrows, his mouth twitching under his beard.

"I mean, this is my normal day-to-day." She's trying not to laugh, too, as they walk over to the clear railings along the edge of the rooftop. Las Vegas sprawls out around them, so bright and colourful that she doesn't know where to look. "Doesn't your house look like this?" 

Mutt points to the replica of the Eiffel Tower. "My house looks like that."

"That one's mine," Twyla says, pointing towards the illuminated pyramid of the Luxor. "My bedroom's right at the point."

His eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles at her, and she moves closer when he tugs on her arm. "Must be quite the view," he murmurs, skimming his hands down her arms and leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

The heat she was feeling inside, born of dancing and sweating and moving together, has evaporated into something else, something that causes her to rise up and pull him down for a kiss. He gives it to her readily, mouth open and hot against hers, and his hands tighten on her waist as she presses against him, then clutch at the fabric over the small of her back. 

It's all so much. He's so tall and handsome, and she's in this gorgeous dress that makes her feel like a movie star, and they're in this fantastical, over-the-top dreamscape, and she feels like someone else, someone more exciting. He groans, the sound of her name rough in his throat and shooting sparks up and down her body, and she clings to him as he lifts her up the ground and sets her down onto one of the beach loungers, then moves onto her. She's not drunk, but she's buzzing like she is, high on the feeling of his attention. She runs one of her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping a moan into his ear, and forgets all about the cameras.

  


* * *

  


It's past 2 AM when Twyla lets herself back into the hotel suite she's sharing with the other contestants. She isn't sure how she'll get to sleep; her mind's still wide-awake from the evening, from the adrenaline of the club and the excitement pulsing in her veins from every one of Mutt's kisses.

She isn't surprised to see that she's not the only one still awake. Tennessee and Kate are still awake in the kitchen, and she gives them a few details and pleasantries before she excuses herself and opens the door to her side of the suite. 

"There you are." 

Twyla startles, blinking a little in the dark as her eyes get accustomed to the dim lighting, but she recognizes the voice. "Lex?"

Alexis moves closer; they're about the same height now, since Twyla hasn't taken her heels off yet. She's wearing what looks to be one of her silk slips, a matching robe over her shoulders, and Twyla's eyes drop down to the lace trim of her neckline before they lift up to her face.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home safe." There's an odd sort of tightness to Alexis' voice, something Twyla can't quite identify. "Must've been a good night?"

"Yeah." Twyla studies the details of Alexis' smile, tilting her head. "Everything okay, Lex?"

"Of course! It's just, you know." Alexis gestures vaguely with a wrist. "It's, like. Super late." She laughs, and Twyla feels the edge of it. "But it's Vegas, so... what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!" 

"Yeah," Twyla says again. "I guess – I guess it does."

"Which is like, super awesome." Alexis shimmies a little; her smile hasn't dropped once. "Totally love that for you, Twy. You deserve a night out." She reaches for Twyla's wrist, then leads them over to the couch. "I'm just glad you came home, you know? You got your rose."

"Yeah," Twyla says. When she straightens back up after undoing her shoes and slipping them off, Alexis is watching her with an intensity she hasn't seen from Alexis before, like they're the only people in the world and nothing else matters. 

Alexis reaches out then, her hand moving in as though it's in slow motion, until her thumb grazes over Twyla's neck and her smile flickers for the first time. Twyla's skin feels tender under Alexis' attention, and she moves on instinct to bring a hand up, so she's almost holding Alexis' hand in her own. 

"I think you have a hickey," Alexis murmurs. Her voice is soft, with an undercurrent to it that Twyla can't fully interpret. "You guys must've had fun."

"Yeah." Twyla swallows, lifting her gaze up to meet Alexis' eyes. She can still feel Mutt's hands on her body, tight on her hips, the weight of his body on hers. The lingering sparks must be why Twyla feels like she's on fire right now, why even the tiniest brush of Alexis' skin against hers is sparking an ache between her legs. "We had fun."

"That's great." Alexis' hand curves around the back of Twyla's neck, and her fingers dig into Twyla's skin. "I'm happy for you, Twy."

"Thanks, Lex. Me, too." 

_Alexis is just your friend_ , Twyla reminds herself. They move off of the couch in tandem, following an unspoken agreement to finally get some sleep, and she turns to wordlessly ask Alexis to help with her dress. Her eyes close briefly as Alexis' hands brush against her back, tracing the outline of her spine, and they slip into their room, cognizant of Shannon and Rachel asleep on the far side of it, so Twyla can finish getting ready for bed.

"Did you guys do a jump or something?" Alexis asks in a near-whisper, once Twyla's taken her makeup off and let her hair down. 

"Yeah." Twyla sets her toothbrush down, then meets Alexis' eyes again. "It was…" She shakes her head. "Honestly, Lex, you would've loved it."

"I bet." Alexis smiles, and Twyla's glad to see that it's lost a little of the perfect brightness that it had held a few minutes ago, and become a little more real. "I wish I'd been there."

"Me, too," Twyla says without hesitation, surprising herself by how much she means every word.

  


* * *

  


They get into bed as quietly as they can. It's so late, so much later than Twyla stays up at home, but her head is still spinning. She sees Mutt's quiet, amused smile in her mind when she closes her eyes, and hears his voice in her ear. But then Alexis, next to her, drapes one of her legs over Twyla's and Twyla's attention is pulled back to where she is, and how soft and warm Alexis is, and she almost forgets how good Mutt made her feel. 

Alexis' perfume is in her nose, light and delicate compared to Mutt's cologne, and their faces are close enough for Twyla to kiss her, if that was something they did together. But it's not, and she doesn't trust herself to resist the temptation, so she keeps her eyes closed. 

Her hand settles down onto Alexis' thigh, though – there's nowhere else to put it that makes sense – and when she finally falls asleep, she's dimly aware of Alexis' face tucked into her shoulder and her arm around Twyla's waist.

  


* * *

  


  
Download Share Comments  


Rating: 
     Teen And Up Audiences
[Archive Warnings](https://archiveofourown.org/tos_faq#tags): 
     Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: 
     F/F
Fandoms: 
     The Bachelor RPF
Relationships: 
     Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Characters: 
     Alexis Rose, Twyla Sands
Additional Tags: 
     it’s THAT SCENE, the way it should have gone, they’re in love, the real ship, Tswizz wrote a song SPECIFICALLY about these two, be the queer you want to see in the world, finally a good season of this franchise
Language: 
     English 
Stats:
     Published: 2021-1-25 Words: 379 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 14 Kudos: 69 Bookmarks: 20 Hits: 3062

##  Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off 

###  MuttTheyAreLesbians 

### Summary:

What if Twyla and Alexis kissed when they OBVIOUSLY wanted to? 

### Notes:

Ok I don’t even watch this show usually but my friend Christine (she runs The Real Ship over on tumblr!) got me into this season and OH MY FUCKING GOD????I don’t even know what to say. They were about to KISS. You saw it, I saw it, Jesus saw it.  
I wrote this really fast so sorry about any typos or whatever! Just needed somewhere to put my FEELINGS. If you wanna read more of this lmk! I could probably continue it... 

  


Twyla looked up into Alexis’ eyes. They were beautiful eyes - everything about Alexis was beautiful. She tried to pretend that she didn’t know that, but she did.

“Do you feel good?” Alexis asked her. “In this dress?” 

Twyla couldn’t even remember what the dress looked like. Alexis’ eyes were the color of sapphires in an undersea cavern. 

“Twy?” Alexis asked. 

“I feel good,” Twyla said. They were all alone, so she added, “I feel good in _your_ dress.”

Alexis squeezed Twyla’s hips. “You look good in my dress.” She checked out Twyla’s boobs, but just like always, they both pretended she hadn’t. “It’s perfect for your date.” 

Twyla took a bunch of fast steps forward, which made Alexis take fast steps back. She looked surprised when she ran into the wall, but also she was looking at Twyla’s boobs again. 

“What’s happening?” Alexis asked. Twyla prayed she wasn’t imagining how hopeful Alexis sounded.

“What’s happening is that I don’t want to go on my date,” Twyla said. She took a chance and pressed her whole body against Alexis’. It was the right chance, because Alexis grabbed at her right away. Both her hands were on Twyla’s butt, and it made Twyla’s heart sing and her body quiver. She was right - they weren’t just friends. 

“But what about Mutt?” Alexis asked. She was breathing in great big puffs. Twyla had only touched Alexis’ hips and this was already how Alexis was reacting. 

“I don’t want to be with Mutt,” Twyla said. 

“But we came here for Mutt,” Alexis said. She was nibbling her lips. Twyla felt like she was going to faint. 

“I’ll show you something better than Mutt,” she declared. 

“Oh, Twyla,” Alexis sighed, like she’d been waiting a lifetime to hear those exact words. “Yes, show me something better.” She pulled Twyla closer than ever. “Kiss me, not him.” 

Twyla hesitated, but only for a second. This was going to change everything, but that was exactly what she wanted. “Alexis, do you mean that?” she asked. She hadto be sure.

“Totally, Twy,” Alexis said, on another lovestruck sigh. “ _Totally._ ”

Twyla smiled a great big smile. “I’m going to kiss you,” she swore. “But first, Alexis, you need to get me out of your dress.” 

  


* * *

  


The episode wraps on something of a cliffhanger, the last shots featuring Chris Harrison announcing that it’s time for the rose ceremony, followed by a from-a-distance view of Mutt pacing a hotel hallway, running a hand anxiously over his beard, his voice spliced over top: _It’s only just hitting me now… how easy it would be for me to make a mistake. Every rose I give out means something. And every rose I_ don’t _give out means something._

There were shots of Alexis at the cocktail party, in her slinky, sparkling dress with its wide, low neck in a shade of blue that made her eyes look especially light and dazzling. She ‘stole Mutt away for a sec’ from Olivia, and in a montage of Mutt flirting with various women, she saw herself laugh warmly at something he said and drape her arm around his neck, and then they were kissing, her body pressing his into the small sofa they shared. 

She can’t remember, now, what on earth they said to each other, though it looks like they were enjoying each other’s company on film. She can only remember kissing him, and liking it, liking kissing him, but also thinking about all the other women he’d probably kissed that night, all the women he’d kissed in general. She kept seeing the red-purple bruise of the hickey on Twyla’s skin behind her eyelids, and she remembers biting Mutt’s bottom lip, hard, not quite sure if she was trying to claim him or punish him. 

When Chris Harrison walked in, she was sitting next to Twyla, crammed into an armchair next to her, giggling about something Mita said. She can’t remember the details of that conversation, either. 

Nicole and Brianna were fighting about something, and the bulk of the cocktail party film focused on that. But sitting here, in the Wobbly Elm, Alexis hardly registers the details of the argument; the righteous indignation from both of them in their interview snippets washes over her entirely. 

She keeps thinking, instead, about the look on her own face, recorded and broadcast all across North America, when she put her hands against the fabric of her own dress on Twyla’s hips and looked down into Twyla’s face. There was an ever-present camerawoman in their room, but she’d been so sure all the footage would be useless – B-roll, at best. 

She keeps thinking about the intensity in the kiss Twyla shared with Mutt when they reached solid ground again after their jump, the way they were smiling into each other’s mouths. She keeps thinking about Twyla’s sweaty body all pressed against Mutt’s at the club, and about the way they kissed on that rooftop, hot and heavy like they were the only people in all of Vegas, like they’d found something special together. 

And she keeps thinking about the hickey. That _fucking_ hickey.

Twyla’s talking to Gwen, one of her hands tangled up with Alexis’, their fingers linked. The redness that bloomed on Twyla’s cheeks when ABC had to blur out her crotch when her dress rode up as Mutt lifted her has faded away, leaving behind only a soft pink flush. Gwen is telling a story about her last trip to Vegas, and Twyla’s nodding along intently, but Alexis hasn’t quite managed to listen. 

She feels restless within the bounds of her body, and she tightens her grip on Twyla’s hand, which prompts a quick glance from her girlfriend. Twyla must see some of what’s going on in her head on her face, because she looks over a second time, her attention no longer on Gwen, and squeezes Alexis’ hand in return. 

“I’m going to powder my nose,” Alexis says, interrupting Gwen. “Come with, baby?” 

“Of course, Lex,” Twyla says, already moving toward the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. “I’ll find you in a bit, Gwen; I _definitely_ need to know how that story ends!” she adds sunnily. 

As they step into the hallway, Twyla releases Alexis’ hand and wraps an arm around her waist instead. “What’s up, babe?” she asks, her voice steeped in enough gentleness that it feels like it could crack Alexis in two. 

“Nothing,” she replies, instinctively, immediately. She pushes open the door to the washroom, and Twyla follows her in. There are three stalls in the washroom, but also a lock on the main door, above which an old post-it note is taped; it reads _please don’t lock! :)_ With a quick, apologetic grimace in the direction of the sign, Alexis flicks the lock and tells Twyla, “Just…” 

Twyla’s arms are wrapped around her, hands smoothing softly over her back. “Just what, Lex?” she says, her face tilted up toward Alexis’. Twyla always look so ready to hear what Alexis has to say, to hold Alexis’ heart in her hands. And Alexis feels, in this moment more than ever before, totally and completely undeserving of it. 

“Just this,” she murmurs, and spins them around, pinning Twyla against the door and bending to claim Twyla’s mouth with her own in a greedy, messy kiss. 

Twyla gasps softly against her lips before she kisses back, rising halfway onto her toes, pushing her body into Alexis’. Despite the way she’s matching Alexis’ urgent intensity with her mouth, though, one of her hands is resting lightly against Alexis’ hip, and she’s untucked Alexis’ shirt from her skirt so that she can stroke her thumb over Alexis’ skin. 

Her touch is light and sweet, almost like she’s trying to impart comfort, and Alexis snatches her hand off her hip and pins both of Twyla’s hands up against the door above her head instead. Twyla’s body arches into hers, hips pressing forward, but she breaks the kiss and gives Alexis that _look_ again. 

“Lex,” she says quietly. 

“I want you, Twy,” Alexis tells her. She uses one hand to keep both of Twyla’s hands pressed up against the door, and uses the other to pull the neckline of Twyla’s dress aside. The hickey Mutt left on Twyla’s skin is, of course, long gone, but Alexis can remember exactly where it was. She puts her mouth in the same place on Twyla’s neck, sucking and then biting hard enough that Twyla cries out. 

“ _Alexis_ ,” she says breathlessly. “Fuck.”

“Yes,” Alexis agrees, pressing one of her thighs between Twyla’s and tugging Twyla’s skirt up. Lips still on Twyla’s neck, she adds, “I’m gonna fuck you, Twy, gonna make you - ”

She’s cut off by her own gasp when Twyla’s wrists twist out of her hold, and both of Twyla’s hands drop down to push at her hips, putting space between their bodies. “No,” Twyla says, her chest heaving slightly. “You fucked me this morning, Alexis. It’s my turn.” 

Alexis is aware that her eyes have widened a little, and she’s breathing hard, too. “Okay,” she says, smiling a little and giving her eyelashes a sultry flutter as she tips her head. “How do you want me, babe?” 

Twyla glances around the washroom, then steps over to the counter with its two sinks. There’s a bit of space between the two of them, and she wipes the surface off with a handful of paper towels before tipping her head toward it, a wordless invitation. 

Obediently, Alexis walks over and perches on the countertop, knees together and ankles crossed. Twyla nudges her legs apart, like she expected, and moves to stand between them. Alexis wraps a hand around the nape of Twyla’s neck, meaning to pull her into a kiss, but Twyla removes her hand. She brings it to her mouth and kisses Alexis’ palm before folding her fingers down, like the kiss is something tangible, something Alexis can hold onto. 

Then Twyla traces her fingertips along the line of Alexis’ jaw, down the bridge of her nose, and over her top lip, dipping lightly along the curve of her cupid’s bow. Alexis closes her eyes just in time for Twyla’s thumbs to smooth over her eyelids. 

“You’re so, so beautiful,” Twyla whispers. 

Alexis opens her eyes again. “ _You_ are, Twy.” 

Twyla smiles and rewards her with a soft kiss, but she pulls back when Alexis tries to deepen it. “So beautiful,” she says again. “And that’s really just the icing on the cake. You’ve got so much fire in you, Lex. And you don’t show it off, but you’re so smart. You’re so creative.” She leans in enough to brush their noses together. “Sometimes I watch you work and I’m just… so amazed by you, honey.” 

“Twy,” Alexis mumbles, avoiding Twyla’s eyes and squirming a little in the face of such earnest praise. 

“And you know just what you’re worth,” Twyla adds, pointedly. Her hands slide up under Alexis’ skirt, palms pressing into her thighs. “Don’t you, baby?” 

Alexis drags her eyes back to Twyla’s, trying her best to ignore the way they’re starting to sting. She blows out her breath and shakes out her hair, stroking her hands up the sides of Twyla’s body, along the curve of her waist. “Thought we were fucking,” she murmurs. 

Twyla gives her a kiss. She leaves one hand beneath Alexis’ skirt, knuckles brushing between her legs, over her underwear, but lifts the other to cup Alexis’ cheek. “I want to fuck you,” she says, her eyes fixed on Alexis’, never once straying. “I want to fuck you just as much as I wanted to fuck you that night.” She tilts her head in the direction of the bar’s main space, indicating the episode they just watched. “God, Alexis. Do you know what it was doing to me, every time you touched me?” 

Alexis’ first impulse is to say, _tell me, baby_ , and to grab Twyla’s chin and pull her into a kiss, one that lasts and will hopefully inspire Twyla to tug her underwear to the side. But instead she ends up blurting, “You can _see_ what it was doing to me. Touching you. You can _see_ it, on my face, and then you were - you were dry-humping Mutt on a rooftop.” 

Twyla’s eyes stay gentle, but Alexis catches the flash of victory that flickers through them, and she feels the way Twyla’s body relaxes, leaning into hers a little more. Twyla, she realizes, has been waiting for her to say the things she didn’t even quite realize were bubbling up inside of her. 

“It’s hard for me to see the two of you together, too,” Twyla says. She doesn’t point out that she’ll see Alexis with Mutt many more times before the season is over, but they both know it. 

“I know,” Alexis tells her - promises her, really. “I know, Twy.”

“Mutt and I had our… moment, on the rooftop. But then I came home to you.” Twyla pushes Alexis’ cardigan down off her shoulder, then peels the strap of her dress down far enough to reveal Alexis’ breast. The sigh she lets out is full of want, and the ache between Alexis’ legs grows stronger. “I came home to you and got into _bed_ with you and…” She ducks her head down and flattens her tongue against Alexis’ nipple. “If there’d been a camera there to see _my_ face?” She grazes Alexis’ nipple with her teeth. “God. I don’t think I’ve _ever_ wanted something so much.” 

Alexis’ hand slides into Twyla’s hair, and she moans softly at the tug of Twyla’s teeth. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“I know,” Twyla replies, breath hot on Alexis’ sensitive skin. “I’m saying it because it’s true.” And then she drops down onto her knees, pushing Alexis’ legs further apart. 

Breath catching, Alexis watches Twyla press kisses slowly along one of her thighs, starting at her knee and working upward at an agonizing pace. She combs her fingers tenderly through Twyla’s hair. 

“I…” she begins, and then stops. Twyla hums softly and starts sucking a hickey onto Alexis’ inner thigh, making her hips buck up a bit. 

“It’s not just about the… physical stuff you had with Mutt,” she says quietly. It’s easier when Twyla’s sweet, gorgeous face isn’t right in front of her own, easier when Twyla’s tongue feels reverant on her body. “It’s… how you connect. The small-town stuff and the… the _good person_ stuff. The way you care about things, about people.”

Twyla’s hot breath ghosts over Alexis’ cunt, and then her mouth settles on Alexis’ other thigh. She doesn’t lift her head as she says, “That doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together.” 

“I know,” Alexis says again, then, “Please, Twy.” 

Twyla looks up at her through her eyelashes. “Keep talking to me, baby, and you can have my mouth.”

“Yes,” Alexis says immediately. “Yes, Twy, please - _yes_ ,” she gasps as Twyla mouths at her over her panties. 

“Talking, Lex,” Twyla reminds her. 

Alexis squeezes her eyes shut, trying to concentrate as Twyla’s tongue traces over her damp underwear. “Mutt saw how wonderful you are. _Everyone_ sees how wonderful you are. You’re - you’re so good - ” She whimpers when Twyla finally moves her underwear aside and licks her. “ _So_ good, Twy.” 

Twyla nudges Alexis’ legs open a bit more and lifts her head. “Talk,” she says again, her lips slick. 

Fingers wrapped tightly into Twyla’s hair, Alexis tries to get her brain to work even as her body presses into the torturously slow circles of Twyla’s tongue. “You’re the best person I - I’ve ever known, and… and everyone loves you and - oh, fuck, Twy, faster, please.” 

Stubbornly, Twyla doesn’t change pace at all, and Alexis groans in frustration. “ _Everyone_ ,” she continues, voice tight with the tension that’s building in her body. “Everyone in the town would do anything for you. Even your _ex_ still loves you, even if I’m not sure I could - I could - ” She moans and tugs harder at Twyla’s hair as Twyla’s tongue works over her clit. “Please, _please_ , Twy.” 

Twyla squeezes her thigh in a way that seems to mean _okay, baby_ , and starts working Alexis toward her orgasm in earnest. Now that she’s started talking, Alexis can’t seem to stop, and she chants, “Yes, yes, Twy, _yes_ ,” as Twyla brings her to the edge, moaning, “So _good_ , Twy, you always make it so good, I’m so close, baby, so close,” before she comes with a sharp cry and slumps back against the mirror behind her. 

Twyla stays with her through the aftershocks, tongue gentle, until Alexis sighs, “Fuck, babe,” and Twlya sits back on her heels, resting her cheek against the inside of Alexis’ thigh for a beat. 

“You were saying something about my ex?” she teases when Alexis has her breath back. 

Rolling her eyes, Alexis pulls at one of Twyla’s shoulders. “Kiss me.” 

Twyla gets to her feet again and leans in, and Alexis licks the taste of herself off Twyla’s chin before pulling her into a long, lazy, open-mouthed kiss that has Twyla making a needy sound in her throat. She breaks the kiss and presses her forehead to Alexis’, not saying anything. 

Alexis recognizes her cue, and sighs softly before she says, “I don’t know if I could get Stevie to admit it, but she loves you. _All_ the girls love you; even Madi, I think, in her own… special way. Everyone online loves you, and it’s because… it’s so obvious how amazing you are, Twyla. It’s so easy to fall in love with your smile, and it _should_ be, because it’s the best smile on the planet, and because you’re so good. You deserve every bit of the love you get.” 

Leaning back, Twyla looks at Alexis straight-on, something shrewd and pained in her eyes now. “And you… don’t think _you_ do?” 

Alexis lifts her shoulders in a slight shrug. “People aren’t exactly flooding _my_ DMs with heart emojis in rainbow order.” 

“Lex - ”

“And that’s fine!” Alexis says quickly. “That’s fine. I don’t need that. All I’m saying is that it’s, like… kind of the objective truth? That I’m not - I’m not good like you.” 

“Alexis.” Twyla shakes her head very firmly. “Baby, of course you’re good. I saw you with the other girls in the house. I see you with everyone here. And now I’ve seen how you are with your brother, how much you love him. I _know_ you. You’re a good person.” 

Alexis lets her gaze drift, staring into one of the sinks, at a mysterious stained patch on the porcelain. She frowns, and swallows forcefully. “Am I?” she murmurs quietly. “Or am I just pretending, so that… so that I don’t lose you?” 

“Babe.” Twyla tucks her fingers under Alexis’ chin, prompting Alexis’ gaze to meet hers again. She looks achingly concerned. “Is that really what you think?”

Alexis shrugs again, embarrassed. “I don’t know,” she lies. 

“Lex…” Twyla seems at a loss for words for an instant, and she kisses Alexis firmly. “That’s not true. It doesn’t matter that you have jerks in your Instagram comments, or that Madison tried to make you out to be this season’s villain, or that things happened in your past that you might not be proud of. You’re an incredible person, and everyone who knows you is so, so lucky to.” Her brows furrow worriedly. “Neither of us is _better_ than the other. I am in _love_ with you, Alexis Rose. So, so in love with you that sometimes I can’t think straight.” 

Alexis bumps her heel against Twyla’s leg. “No one here is thinking _straight_ , baby.” 

Twyla rolls her eyes, but the crease disappears from between her eyes and she smiles. “You and me, we’re a unit. You’re my partner. And I don’t let people say my partner’s not a good person. I don’t even let people _think_ it.” 

“I love you so much, too, Twy,” Alexis says quietly. Her chest is aching, but not in a bad way. “So scary much. I just… I want to be as good to you as you are to me.” 

“Then you have nothing to worry about, honey,” Twyla says, cupping Alexis’ face between her palms. “Because you already are.” 

Smiling, Alexis tips her chin up, and their mouths meet in a kiss. It’s slow and soft and full of feeling, and Alexis wraps her arms around Twyla’s neck like she never intends to let go. 

“We should get out of here in case someone wants to use the bathroom,” Twyla says on a sigh when they pull apart. “And we should socialize some more. And then when we get home, I’m going to show you exactly what I wanted to do with you that night.” 

Alexis gives a pleased little shimmy. “ _Love_ this plan, baby,” she says. 

Twyla steps back, and Alexis gets down off the counter and readjusts her clothes while Twyla finger-combs her hair, attempting to make it look less like Alexis’ hands were just wound into it. Twyla uses her thumb to wipe away the lipstick smudges at the corners of Alexis’ mouth, her gaze and her touch both so soft that Alexis basks in them, looking fondly down at her girlfriend. 

When they’ve done all they can to look like they haven’t just hooked up in a bathroom, Twyla unlocks the door, but Alexis says, “Wait,” and tugs her back in for one last kiss, her heart swelling when Twyla giggles against her mouth. 

“Don’t you dare,” Twyla says when Alexis’ hand slips into her hair again, and they’re both laughing in between quick kisses, pressed together, when the door swings open. 

Alexis looks up, ready to apologize, and is startled to find an all-too-familiar and equally-startled pair of eyes staring back at her. She’s even more surprised, her eyebrows flying up as pieces of a puzzle start to slot together in her mind, to find Stevie at her brother’s shoulder. 

“Um, David?” she says, tilting her head innocently as her arm settles around Twyla’s shoulders. “This is, like, the _women’s_ washroom?”

“Um, Alexis?” he replies, and the way he’s mimicking her inflection is _such_ a telltale sign he’s on the offensive that Alexis’ mouth stretches into a grin. “Gender is, like, a _construct_?” 

She’s too pleased by his discomfort to even bother with giving him the finger. She purses her lips and wakes her eyes wide, like she needs help understanding what’s going on. “So, do you need Stevie’s help to pee, or…?” 

David makes a growly huff of a noise. At his side, Stevie blinks, looks quickly between Alexis and Twyla, then gives her head a small, firm shake and turns on her heel, heading back toward the bar. Alexis looks down at Twyla and finds that her eyes are wide in her face, lashes fluttering in fast blinks as she takes in this new information. 

Alexis pulls Twyla closer, and looks in the direction Stevie went with an exaggerated pout. “Oh no, _burn_ , David!” she cries, feigning concern. 

“Eat glass, Alexis,” he replies, adding, “Your girlfriend has sex hair,” as he storms off after Stevie. 

The door swings shut again, and a small burst of giggles escapes Alexis’ mouth as she turns toward Twyla. “Oh my _god_ ,” she says. 

“Were they - ” Twyla’s expression is caught somewhere between horror and amusement, not quite able to settle in either place just yet. “Were they coming in here to - ”

“Mmhm.” Alexis nods emphatically. “Totally.” 

“Oh my god,” Twyla says, echoing Alexis’ sentiment of a moment ago, and Alexis keeps nodding as she pulls her poor, shocked girlfriend into a hug. 

“I know,” she says, comfortingly, but she can’t help laughing again, her mouth pressed into Twyla’s hair. After a beat, Twyla starts laughing too, her forehead pressed against Alexis’ sternum and her arms wrapped around Alexis’ waist, like that’s exactly where they belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next week on _The Bachelor_ :**  
> Vegas sees us saying goodbye to three women at the rose ceremony, before we fly off to yet another wonderful locale: the beautiful state of Hawaii!
> 
> It's Alexis' birthday, and she thinks up the best way to celebrate. But when she gets more than she bargained for in her birthday suit, she's forced to truly start reckoning with what's in her heart for the first time. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Mutt _and_ Twyla both struggle with the unique challenges of the journey, and things start to heat up at one of the group dates. Remember, love isn't just about the destination; it's also about the people we meet along the way...
> 
> (PS: Find us on Tumblr at anniemurphys and alamborghini!)


End file.
